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Leaders  in  Norway 

and  Other  Essays 


AGNES  MATHILDE  WERGELAND 

(Late  Professor  of  History,  University  of  Wyominci) 

Edited  and  arranged  by 
KATHARINE  MERRILL 


GEORGE  BANTA  PUnHSIIING  COMPANY 

MENASHA,  WISCONSIN 

1916 


'   >   1 
J  J  >  J 


Copyright,  1916 

by 

Grace  Raymond  Hehard 


c       c 

c         c 


PREFACE 


to 

CM 


£siHIS  little  volume,  while  in  part  a  memo- 
"^  rial  to  the  writer,  is  also  a  real  con- 
tribution to  the  present  literature  in 
English  on  Norway,  its  character, 
and  some  of  its  great  minds.  The 
names  of  Henrik  Wergeland  and 
Camilla  Collett,  while  supremely  be- 
loved in  their  own  country,  are  to 
most  Americans  names  of  no  meaning. 
1^  The  writer  of  these  essays  always  had 
the  desire  and  perhaps  the  hope  to 
make  better  known  to  the  world  the  particular  charac- 
teristics and  accomplishment  of  her  beloved  fatherland. 
Had  opportunity  been  granted  her  to  fulfill  that  desire, 
any  lacks  that  may  be  felt  in  the  present  work,  com- 
pil  i,s  it  has  been  merely  from  disconnected  publica- 
tion \  miscellaneous  papers,  would  have  been 
abunt  supplied  from  the  wealth  of  knowledge  and 
loving  familiarity  which  she  carried  in  her  heart  and 
memory. 

Of  those  who  have  aided  in  this  undertaking,  the  most 
devoted  thanks  are  due  to  Miss  Maren  Michelet,  of 
Minneapolis,  one  of  the  leaders  in  the  teaching  of  Norse 
in  this  country,  who  has  generously  furnished  transla- 
tions and  historical  and  literary  information  which 
otherwise  to  a  person  unacquainted  with  Norse  would 
have  been  practically  inaccessible. 

Cordial  acknowledgment  is  also  made  to  the  pub- 
lishers of  The  Dial,  The  North  American  Review, 
Symra,  and  other  English  and  Norse  periodicals  for 
permission  to  reprint  some  of  the  articles  here  included. 


T. 


440998 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


The  Primitive  Norseman 1 

The  Awakening  of  Norway 4 

WcstLand  and  Eastland 23 

Henrik  Wcrgehind    38 

Camilla  Collett    6-i 

Note  on  Wclliaven  and  the  Folk  Poetry 102 

Progress  of  the  Woman  Movement  in  Norway  .  .  109 

Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 117 

"Second-Sight"  in  Norse  Literature 139 

Grieg  as  a  National  Composer 146 

Personal  Recollections  of  Grieg 158 

The  Cathedral  at  Trondhjcm  and  a  Vision  of  the 

Past 162 

Biographical  Sketch  of  Agnes  Mathilde  Werge- 

land    175 

APPENDIX  I 

Collett  on  Ibsen's  Ghosts 189 

APPENDIX  II 

Note  on  Bjiirnson    • 191 


ri  ^0  the  'memory  of  a  friend  wlio 
-J.  had  more  than  one  string  to  her 
lute  and  who  through  many  vicissitudes 
always  remained  true  to  her  individu- 
ality, this  book  is  dedicated  by  those 
who  most  cherish  the  abiding  influence 
of  her  rich  friendship. 


THE  PRIiMITIVE  NORSEMAN 


F  we  scan  the  old  sagas  to  learn  the 
dominating    traits    of    the    race    that 
produced  them,  we  find  as  one  leading 
characteristic  a  strong  sense  of  indivi- 
dual value,  of  respect  for  self.     This 
was  expressed  not  only  outwardly  in 
a  proud,  well-poised  bearing  but  also 
inwardly.     There  was  no  bowing  to  a 
superior  merely  because  he  was  above, 
:|i  no  kneeling  in  the  dust  or  kissing  the 
hem  of  his  garment  because  it  was  the 
fashion  to  do  so  as  a  servile  habit,  but  only  because 
inner  recognition  of  his  actual  worth  allowed  it.     The 
homage  done  was  real.     There  was  a  plain  honesty  in 
those  Northern  Teutons  that  stood  them  in  good  stead, 
for  it  prevented  them  from  being  enslaved  during  the 
time  when  all  the  rest  of  Europe  was  under  the  yoke. 
Closely  related  to  this  vigorous  self-respect  was  the 
chastity  in  the   spirit  of  the   race.      The  brutality  of 
barbarous   tribes   cannot,  of  course,  be   gainsaid ;  but 
there  are  incidents  and  remarks  in  the  old  poems  that 
indicate  a  natural  proud  reserve  and  a  certain  restraint 
upon  the  feelings  which  even  today  distinguish  the  Scan- 
dinavian nations  from  most  others.     It  is  not  so  much 
a  product  of  reflection  as  an  innate  dislike  of  excess. 
This  emotional  reserve  indicates  even  today — not  that 
they  have  no  feeling — but  that  they  check  themselves 
through   the   fear   of  going  too   far   if   they   take   all 
possible  freedom.     This  quality  is  a  source  of  moral 
fortitude  in  the  race. 

[1] 


Leaders   in   Norway 


Another  quality  quite  as  characteristic  as  the  two 
mentioned  is  faithfubiess.  The  old  saga^s  show  that  an 
individual  might  resist  a  long  time,  trying  to  maintain 
his  absolute  independence.  But  when  he  once  became 
attached,  either  by  law  or  by  affection,  he  was  faithful 
with  an  equally  absolute  faithfulness.  What  the  Ger- 
mans meant  by  the  keeping  of  servant's  faith  toward 
the  master — the  "treu  und  glaube"  of  feudal  life,  was 
eminently  characteristic  of  relationship  in  the  entire 
Germanic  world.  It  was  upon  the  individual's  "treu  und 
glaube"  more  than  upon  any  other  thing  that  the  whole 
society,  feudal  relations  and  all,  rested.  The  old  sagas 
speak  of  instance  after  instance  of  a  man's  pledging  his 
word  and  in  every  case  living  up  to  it.  Friends  mix 
drops  of  their  blood  in  order  to  bind  each  other  forever 
as  with  a  natural  tie ;  the  nobleman  sacrifices  all  for  his 
lord,  the  warrior  for  his  king;  the  betrothed  keeps  his 
troth  even  when  a  better  marriage  is  offered  him  and 
when  there  is  nothing  but  his  word  to  bind  him. 

Yet  another  striking  trait  found  in  the  heroes  and 
heroines  of  northern  sagas  is  simplicity  of  feeling,  one- 
ness of  purpose,  a  stability  of  character  that  did  not 
yield  to  excruciating  doubts  or  to  complicated  analysis 
of  motives  such  as  belong  to  our  modern  life.  These 
old  heroes  and  heroines  seem  hewn  in  rock,  like  moun- 
tains with  meadows  at  their  feet  and  snow  on  their 
heads — and  yet,  like  the  rock  of  which  they  were  hewn, 
they  hid  fire  in  their  bosom.  Passion  was  there  and 
heat,  wild  hatred,  anguish  and  love  slowly  working, 
silently  subdued  but  unexpectedly  bursting  forth  like 

[2] 


The  Primitive  Norseman 


flame  from  an  impassive  volcano  that  suddenly  illumi- 
nates everything  with  its  sombre  glow.  Remember 
Brynhild,  who  preferred  to  see  Sigurd  dead  rather 
than  alive  with  another  woman. 

Such  incidents  as  this  manifest  the  dramatic,  intense 
quality  of  Northern  poetry  and  likewise  of  the  myth- 
ology. In  the  old  Germanic  lore  of  the  gods  there  is 
no  licentious  Zeus  nor  lovesick  Aphrodite.  Odin,  father 
of  the  gods,  has  given  one  of  his  eyes  in  exchange  for 
wisdom.  His  desire  is  for  that.  He  is  indeed  a  majes- 
tic, awe-inspiring  figure  of  the  first  order ;  the  mystery 
of  all  things  seems  to  hide  under  the  shadow  of  his 
great  gray  mantle  and  the  broad  hat  that  shades  his 
brow.  Jupiter,  whose  eyebrows  shake  the  world,  seems 
weak  and  soft  beside  him.  And  Thor  and  Tyr,  Balder 
and  Ydun — how  much  more  force  and  majesty  arc  in 
them  than  in  the  Greek  deities  of  somewhat  the  same 
nature. 

Tims  the  early  Norsemen  possessed  certain  sym- 
pathetic qualities,  certain  large  virtues  which  just  be- 
cause of  their  simplicity  and  genuineness  create  an  im- 
pression of  greatness ;  a  greatness  that  the  far  more 
polished,  complicated  character  of  the  civilized  man  ot 
that  time  or  of  man  today  does  not  produce.  The 
civilized  man  seems  almost  artificial  compared  with 
these  simple,  true  individuals  whom  he  may  be  inclined 
to  despise;  and  yet  in  some  broad  noble  ways  he  is  not 
able  to  surpass  them. 


[3] 


THE  AWAKENING  OF  NORWAY 


i 


mi 


ARLY  in  the  middle  ages  Norway  pre- 
sented an  interesting  picture  of  great 
national     force    and     activity.       The 
country   contained  perhaps   less   than 
a    million    inhabitants    and    only    one 
third  of  the  present   area  was   culti- 
vated.      On    the    coast    alone    was    a 
somewhat  dense  population,  and  even 
that  was  mostly  scattered  into  sepa- 
rate    homesteads,     since     there     were 
very  few  towns.     Yet  the  nation  had 
remarkable    vigor    and    vitality.      Evidence    of    this    is 
found  in  the  emigrations  of  the  time — for  example,  the 
populating  of  Iceland  and  the  Scotch  islands ;  also  in 
the  conquests  of  Ireland  and  Normandy.     In  later  cen- 
turies journeys  were  made,  too,  to  such  distant  points 
as  Palestine  and  Constantinople  and  the  coast  of  the 
western  continent.     To  the  intellectual  life  of  those  ages 
Norway  contributed  its  sagas  and  poems,  its  mythology, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  one  of  the  most  interesting  col- 
lections of  laws  in  existence.     All  these,  moreover,  were 
recorded  in  the  national  language;  and  this  at  a  time 
when  in  the  Prankish  empire  and  long  afterwards  Latin 
was  the  only  tongue  used  for  literary  purposes  or  even 
for    law    practice.      These    manifestations    prove    that 
Norway  was   not   intellectually   or  politically   isolated 
and  barbaric,  but  lead  us   rather  to   see  that  it  was 
prominent  and  a  country  of  peculiar  significance  with- 
in the  Germanic  world. 


[4] 


The  Awahening  of  Norway 


But  the  later  mediaeval  time  shows  a  change.  From 
the  ninth  to  the  thirteenth  century,  five  hundred  years, 
Norway  was  consumed  by  internal  wars.  They  may  not 
have  been  very  extensive  or  have  m.ade  much  difference 
in  the  general  life  of  the  people.  But  they  kept  the 
country  in  constant  excitement,  and  slowly  though 
surely  sapped  its  strength,  leaving  it  finally  exhausted 
and  paralytic. 

Norway  started  in  history  as  one  of  the  most  aris- 
tocratic countries  on  record.  Not  only  was  there  a 
very  high  nobility,  consisting  of  previous  territorial 
earls  who  had  submitted  their  possessions  to  a  victori- 
ous king  while  retaining  their  prestige  and  rank  as 
magnates,  but,  besides,  every  small  owner  of  allodial 
lands  was  by  virtue  of  those  very  possessions  and  his 
old  free  lineage  a  nobleman  likewise.  The  word  peas- 
ant meant  nothing  derogatory,  as  in  other  countries. 
Rather,  it  was  a  title  of  consequence  and  a  pride  to 
its  owner.  Those  free  peasants — whose  descendants  in 
many  instances  maintain  today  the  same  aristocratic 
bearing  as  their  ancestors  a  thousand  years  ago — were 
the  people  proper,  the  people  that  met  at  the  court  of 
the  hundred,  the  people  that  pleaded  causes,  passed 
judgments,  accepted  the  newly  elected  king  or  rejected 
him,  and  ruled  the  land  according  to  old  custom  and 
with  a  degree  of  popular  freedom  such  as  had  been  the 
idea  of  the  Germanic  race  from  the  very  first. 

When  the  period  of  struggle  began,  the  effort  of  the 
monarchy  was,  first,  to  fight  the  higher  aristocracy, 
which  tried  to  divert  the  royal  power  to  its  own  side; 

[5] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


and  second,  to  reduce  the  political  activity  of  the  free 
peasantry  to  local  matters  only.  This  conflict  filled 
the  greater  part  of  the  centuries  following  the  ninth. 
The  monarchy,  represented  by  many  brilliant  warriors 
and  rulers,  steadily  increased  in  prestige.  The  strug- 
gling aristocracy  received  the  greatest  blow  in  the 
twelfth  century  when  they  tried  to  raise  from  their 
own  circle  a  pretender  to  the  vacant  throne  and  were 
defeated.  A  new  family  was  established,  that  of 
Sverre,  whom  some  considered  a  usurper  while  others 
thought  he  claimed  only  his  right  as  a  descendant  of 
the  old  family. 

This  age-long  bloody  struggle  exhausted  the  higher 
aristocracy  and  made  the  lower  obedient  subjects  to  a 
royal  power  almost  absolute.  For  though  this  power 
was  seemingly  in  strict  conformity  to  the  laws  of  the 
country,  yet  it  held  in  its  hand  complete  political 
supremacy.  The  old  Germanic  notion  that  all  sons  of  a 
king  should  be  considered  heirs  to  the  throne — which 
had  hitherto  prevailed  in  Norway — had  been  one  of  the 
chief  causes  of  internal  strife,  because  it  tempted  the 
aristocracy  to  divide  their  support.  Now,  however, 
this  was  set  aside  for  the  rule  that  only  the  oldest 
legitimate  son  could  be  king.  And  so  strong  and  un- 
disputed grew  the  kingly  authority,  that  in  spite  of  the 
previous  order  of  succession,  natural  to  the  country 
and  used  in  private  affairs,  the  idea  of  strict  legitimate 
primogeniture  became,  for  the  throne,  almost  an 
axiom  among  the  Norwegian  people.  As  time  passed, 
the  king  to  such  an  extent  concentrated  all  power  in 

[6] 


The  Axvahcning  of  Norway 


his  person  and  was  so  much  regarded  as  the  real  source 
of  government  and  law,  that  not  even  the  French  nation 
after  the  days  of  Louis  XIV  was  less  able  to  rule  itself 
and  choose  a  representative  government  from  its  own 
body  politic  than  was  the  Norwegian  after  the  old 
royal  family  had  died  out  and  the  question  arose  of 
where  to  seek  a  successor.  Then  came  the  period  of 
extreme  impotency,  even  degradation,  when  the  first 
union  with  Sweden  was  formed;  and  later  the  equally 
unfortunate  relation  to  Denmark.  Norway  was  like  a 
ship  without  a  rudder,  a  prey  to  every  wind  and  wave. 

The  cause  of  these  deplorable  events  can  be  sought 
nowhere  but  in  the  political  conditions  within  the  coun- 
try itself.  The  rapid  disappearance  of  its  aristocracy, 
the  absence  of  leaders  among  the  free  peasants  and 
their  lack  of  broad  political  training  such  as  they  had 
possessed  in  earlier  times,  tlic  financial  exhaustion  of 
the  nation,  and  finally  even  the  very  law-abiding 
spirit  of  the  people  themselves — these  things  caused 
them  to  cling  with  almost  contemptible  weakness  to 
the  letter  of  the  law,  and  prevented  them  from  seeing 
that  the  emergencies  of  the  times  demanded  immediate 
action,  even  though  contrary  to  the  prescriptions  of 
previous  years. 

Such  paralysis  in  countries  once  active  is  nothing 
new  but  is  always  regrettable.  The  national  misfor- 
tunes in  Norway  began  when  in  the  fourteenth  century 
Haakon  the  Fifth  had  no  possible  heir  but  a  daughter. 
Only  male  heirs  were  recognized  by  law.  To  save  the 
country  from  internal  war,  Haakon  had  changed  the 

[7] 


Leaders  in  Norzvay 


order  of  succession  so  that  the  son  of  his  daughter 
should  inherit  the  throne.  This  daughter,  Princess 
Ingeborg,  had  married  a  Swedish  prince  who  at  the 
time  had  no  expectation  of  inheriting  the  throne  of  his 
own  country  and  Avho  was  expected  to  be  to  the  princess 
only  a  prince  consort  or  even  less,  because  she  herself 
could  never  be  more  than  regent  for  her  son.  This 
son,  however,  by  a  strange  trick  of  fortune,  became  the 
king  of  both  countries.  Thus  began  one  of  the  many 
so-called  personal  unions  of  Sweden  and  Norway.  The 
union  was  liked  even  less  by  Norway  than  by  Sweden, 
for  although  it  was  the  Norwegian  king  who  became 
ruler  of  both,  yet  Norway  found  itself  slighted  and 
neglected.  The  two  nations  were  separated  again  when 
the  king's  sons  grew  up  and  the  elder  became  his  col- 
league in  Sweden  (again  a  slight  to  Norway),  while  the 
younger  became  an  associate  and  finally  an  indepen- 
dent king  in  Norway  itself.  So  far  so  good.  But  a  new 
series  of  complications  arose  when  this  young  Nor- 
wegian king  married  the  only  heir  to  the  Danish  throne, 
the  Princess  Margrete — their  son  being  thus  the  future 
ruler  of  both  Norway  and  Denmark.  This  son,  how- 
ever, as  well  as  his  father,  died.  Then  appeared  the 
first  astonishing  instance  of  the  incapacity  of  the  Nor- 
wegian people  to  take  care  of  their  own  interests.  The 
Norwegian  state  council  weakly  accepted  as  their  mis- 
tress the  Danish  Queen  Margrete.  The  fact  that  she 
had  been  regent  of  her  son  was  her  only  possible  claim 
to  a  throne  from  which  women  had  for  centuries  been 
excluded  by  law.     On  the  part  of  the  council  it  was 

[8] 


The  Awakening  of  Norway 


only  a  desperate  attempt  to  bridge  over  a  time  of  inter- 
regnum till  a  new  king  could  be  elected.  To  elect 
a  king  from  among  the  aristocracy  does  not  seem  to 
have  occurred  to  the  nation.  The  Danish  princess  and 
queen  soon  united  to  her  double  scepter  the  third  coun- 
try also.  Thus  came  about  the  first  instance  of  the 
so-called  Kalmar  union — a  union  that  might  have 
worked  much  good  if  the  nations  had  not  for  centuries 
been  on  somewhat  hostile  terms. 

If  Queen  Margretc  may  be  credited  with  the  earliest 
conception  of  a  united  northern  empire,  the  idea  of 
which  has  occupied  many  later  minds,  she  at  least 
lacked  the  political  wisdom  to  see  that  what  is  near 
but  not  dear  will  have  to  be  joined  together  by  force 
of  arms  or  be  led  to  approach  by  steps  likely  to  be  but 
slow.  Margrete,  however,  accomplished  little  toward 
such  an  approach.  In  fact,  she  created  antagonism  by 
making  the  other  two  countries  feel  neglected  and  used 
merely  as  footstools  for  Danish  glory.  The  Norwegi- 
ans particularly  had  no  reason  to  be  elated  over  their 
choice  of  mistress,  and  yet  they  seem  not  to  have  made 
any  particular  protest.  Their  submission  to  royal 
authority  even  led  them  to  accept  and  crown  as  their 
lawful  king  the  successor  Margrete  chose  for  her- 
self, namely,  a  German  prince  in  no  way  connected 
with  the  royal  Norwegian  family.  This  prince  later 
became  the  king  of  Denmark  and  Sweden  as  well.  But 
though  he  embraced  the  idea  of  a  Northern  empire 
as  eagerly  as  his  predecessor,  he  saw  as  little  as  she 
the  natural  difficulties  in  carrying  out  the  plan  and 

•       [9] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


fought  in  vain  the  separatist  tendencies  in  each  of  his 
countries.  The  union  gradually  became  an  object  of 
hatred  to  all  of  them.  Only  Denmark  as  the  superior 
country  derived  some  benefit  from  it  and  was  longest 
in  favor  of  it.  The  king,  however,  soon  came  into  con- 
flict with  the  Danish  and  Swedish  aristocracies,  which 
were  much  more  aggressive  than  the  Norwegian.  Both 
countries  declared  him  deposed.  Norway  alone  clung 
to  the  cause  of  the  king  who  had  never  cared,  even 
after  his  deposition,  to  acknowledge  this  faithfulness 
or  to  set  his  foot  in  the  country.  Denmark  chose  a 
new  king,  and  he  by  common  consent  soon  became  the 
Swedish  monarch.  Presently  in  the  same  way  he  added 
Norway  to  his  possessions,  that  country  still  remain- 
ing incapable  of  initiative.  Thus  came  a  repetition  of 
the  much  detested  Kalmar  union. 

This  king,  however,  died  not  long  afterwards  without 
leaving  heirs;  and  then  the  Norwegians  were  met  b}^ 
the  most  difficult  dilemma  that  had  confronted  them. 
Sweden  chose  a  king  from  the  nation  itself,  one  of  its 
own  noblemen;  thus  establishing  its  independence  and 
national  career.  Norway  seems  to  have  seen  no  such 
possibility.  The  Danes,  instead  of  following  the  exam- 
ple of  the  Swedes,  again  chose  a  German  prince,  though 
he  had  not  the  slightest  connection  with  the  Danish 
royal  house.  By  a  hurried  journey  to  Norway,  this 
new  king,  whose  name  was  Kriestiern  of  Oldenburg, 
succeeded  without  difficulty  in  being  elected  king  of 
Norway  as  well — that  being  the  second  instance  of 
Dano-Norwegian  union  based  upon  a  king  in  common. 

[10] 


The  Awakening  of  Norway 


Kings  of  the  Oldenburg  house  from  then  on  for  four 
hundred  years  remained  the  rulers  of  both  countries 
— it  is  safe  to  say  not  to  the  advantage  of  either.  The 
grandson  of  Kriesticrn  I  once  more  united  all  three 
countries  under  his  scepter.  But  his  tryannical  rule 
alienated  Sweden  forever  from  friendly  relation  to  the 
Danish  monarchy.  He,  too,  was  deposed,  and  although 
Norway,  as  in  the  previous  case,  remained  longest 
faithful  to  him,  he  disregarded  this  and  concentrated 
all  his  energies  on  the  overcoming  of  his  enemies  in 
Denmark.  He  made  a  voyage  to  southern  Norway  and 
from  there  entered  Denmark ;  but  was  met  with  treach- 
erous promises,  captured  under  false  pretenses  and 
remained  in  prison  for  twenty-three  years.  Thus  ended 
this  inglorious  drama— the  point  of  interest  being  the 
treatment  that  the  submissive  Norway  received  from 
the  self-seeking  holders  of  her  vacant  throne. 

Further  detail  is  unnecessary  concerning  this  igno- 
minious decay  of  a  once  active  state.  Suffice  it  to 
say  that  the  lethargy  was  taken  advantage  of  by  the 
Danes,  who  thus  at  small  cost  united  with  their  own 
country  another  which  seemed  incapable  of  resisting  any 
aggression.  The  Danes  in  the  period  of  union  utilized 
Norway  as  if  it  had  been  a  conquered  province.  Tlie 
Norwegians  furnished  the  Danish  army  witli  soldiers 
and  the  Danish  fleet  with  sailors.  Norway  contributed 
twice  or  three  times  as  mucli  to  the  Danish  treasury 
as  Denmark  paid  out  for  Norwegian  defense.  Danisli 
farmers  had  a  monopoly  in  selling  grain  to  Norwegian 
provinces.      The   castles   of   Norway   were   commanded 


Leaders  in  Norway 


by  Danish  noblemen,  the  administrators  were  mostly 
Danes,  even  the  language  was  called  Danish,  and  the 
existence  of  Norway  as  a  separate  kingdom  was  calmly 
and  completely  ignored.  No  country  conquered  by 
an  enemy  could  be  more  wholly  absorbed ;  and  no  coun- 
try that  was  not  suffering  from  absolute  prostration 
could  endure  such  loss  of  natural  rights. 

Such  was  the  result  of  the  earlier  war  between  the 
aristocracy  and  the  monarchy  and  the  absorption  of 
all  political  power  by  the  king.  Instead  of  an  aristo- 
cratic society,  the  Norwegian  had  become  democratic ; 
but  it  was  not  a  democracy  with  any  capacity  for 
political  action.  Having  no  longer  natural  leaders, 
and  having  lost  the  sense  of  self-leadership,  the  nation 
easily  became  the  prey  of  greed  and  selfish  neglect. 

And  yet  in  spite  of  all  that  weak  sufferance,  and 
even  in  the  days  of  Norway's  closest  relation  to  Den- 
mark when  the  feeling  of  nationality  was  least  awake, 
the  sense  of  being  a  separate  nation  never  left  the 
heart  of  the  people.  The  mountaineer  maintains  his 
individuality  far  longer  than  the  inhabitant  of  the 
plain.  Norwegians  who  rose  to  prominent  recognition 
and  rank  within  the  Danish  state  never  forgot  that 
they  were  of  Norwegian  origin.  They  were  proud  of 
the  fact,  and  this  pride  and  self-esteem  gave  them  a 
peculiar  independent  bearing  that  reflected  glory  upon 
the  country  from  which  they  came.  Even  as  early  as 
the  sixteenth  century,  under  the  influence  of  the  gen- 
eral European  humanistic  movement,  the  old  sagas 
telling  the  exploits  of  the  valiant  earls   and  kings  of 

[12] 


The  Awakening  of  Norway 


former  days  had  been  translated  and  read  with  the 
greatest  interest  throughout  the  country.  That  heroic 
past  was  by  no  means  disregarded.  Men  looked  back 
with  pride  and  pleasure  to  those  ages  when  Norway 
had  stood  in  the  front  rank  among  the  northern  nations. 
Another  event  that  wakened  patriotic  sentiment  was 
the  need  and  successful  outcome  of  Norway's  self- 
defense  against  Charles  XII  of  Sweden.  Denmark,  in 
spite  of  her  eagerness  to  absorb  Norway,  was  not  in 
the  habit  of  doing  much  to  protect  this  valuable  aquisi- 
tion  against  a  foreign  enemy.  Consequently  when  the 
great  northern  war  broke  out,  Denmark  joined  the 
coalition  against  the  Swedish  king  with  little  thought 
of  the  possible  results  to  Norway.  Finally,  when  vic- 
tory failed  to  attend  the  young  Swede  and  it  was  neces- 
sary for  him  to  save  the  fragments,  he  turned  upon 
Norway,  determined  to  conquer  it.  The  Danes  had 
done  nothing  to  fortify  the  Norwegian  frontier;  the 
national  militia — such  as  had  not  been  appropriated 
for  the  welfare  of  the  Danish  state  proper — was  ill 
clad  and  ill  provided  with  ammunition  and  leaders. 
Nevertheless,  the  Norwegians  proved  themselves  a 
match  even  for  the  valiant  soldier  king.  The  peasants 
rose,  armed  and  equipped  their  own  soldiers,  provided 
money  and  food  for  their  small  forces,  and  fought  so 
successfully  that  the  Swedish  leader  who  had  won  so 
many  battles  could  not  conquer  even  a  small  but  impor- 
tant fortress  on  the  coast.  Finally  Charles  himself 
was  shot  by  one  of  his  own  soldiers.  The  war  ended 
thus    abruptly    enough.      But    Norway    had    at    least 

[13] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


proved  her  ability  and  her  wilHngness  to  take  care  of 
herself  in  a  most  dangerous  situation.  Besides,  she 
had  played  a  conspicuous  part  in  defeating  the  enemy 
at  sea.  Norwegian  sailors  had  shown  themselves  the 
backbone  of  the  Danish  fleet  and  covered  it  with  glory. 
Peter  Wessel,  better  known  as  "Tordenskjold"  (Thun- 
dershield),  established  his  fame  as  a  hero  superior  to 
them  all.  By  his  astounding  boldness  and  bravery  he 
time  and  again  defeated  the  schemes  of  the  Swedish  king 
and  at  last  forced  him  to  return  to  Sweden  without 
accomplishing  anything.  Such  pluck  and  vigor,  and 
the  strong  patriotic  feeling  manifested  everywhere 
among  the  Norwegians,  raised  the  Danish  opinion  con- 
siderably for  the  brethren  on  the  other  side  of  the 
sound.  The  name  Norwegian  became  almost  a  name 
of  honor.  In  verse  and  prose  the  "small  nation  among 
the  mountains"  was  praised  as  an  example  of  courage, 
faithfulness  and  bravery. 

Still  another  and  very  different  thing  served  to  re- 
establish the  Norwegians  in  public  opinion.  This  was 
the  contrast  offered  between  the  social-economical  con- 
dition of  the  once  free  Danish  peasantry  and  the  con- 
ditions in  Norway  among  the  same  class.  A  most 
shortsighted  and  lax  policy  on  the  part  of  the  Danish 
government  had  allowed  the  big  land  owners  gradually  to 
deprive  their  free  tenants  of  almost  every  vestige  of 
personal  liberty.  Danish  peasants  had  become  almost 
serfs  for  the  benefit  of  the  landed  gentry,  who  were 
thus  supposed  to  secure  cheap  work  and  steady  assis- 
tance.   In  Norway,  on  the  other  hand,  the  landed  nobili- 

[14] 


The  Awakening  of  Nonvay 


ty  did  not  have  any  such  extended  privileges.  Every 
man  lived  on,  his  own  ground,  possessed  of  Httle  wealth 
but  much  freedom.  Danish  writers  on  economic  sub- 
jects remarked  upon  this  striking  difference  and  found 
the  topic  fruitful  of  much  declamation  concerning  the 
ancient  freedom  that  dwelt  among  the  Norwegian  cliffs. 
The  Norwegians  themselves  became  declamatory  and 
were  accustomed  to  consider  their  country  the  cradle 
of  freedom,  the  sacred  soil  on  which  no  tyrant  had  ever 
set  foot  and  from  which  Europe  could  draw  afresh  the 
old  liberal  spirit  that  had  died  out  on  the  plains. 

But  the  greatest  spiritual  achievement  that  Norway 
reached  during  these  centuries  of  slow  awakening  was 
the  giving  to  Danish-Norwegian  literature  of  a  man 
of  such  unique  power  as  Ludvig  Holberg.  Hardly  in 
the  life  of  any  nation  has  there  been  such  a  decisive 
change  as  occurred  in  the  Danish-Norwegian  intellec- 
tual life  through  the  activity  of  this  one  man.  Hol- 
berg's  production  in  pure  literature  was  in  its  main 
directions  a  perfectly  novel  undertaking,  without  model 
or  support  in  previous  Danish  or  Norwegian  writ- 
ings. His  historical  works,  too,  put  other  aims  before 
the  public  and  followed  other  paths  than  those  hitherto 
customary  in  the  two  countries.  (The  sagas  are,  of 
course,  not  referred  to  here.)  Besides,  his  philosophi- 
cal thoughts  moved  in  quite  a  different  sphere  from 
that  Avhich  in  his  time  was  considered  the  realm  of  phi- 
losophy. And  his  comic-satyric  writings  were  so  un- 
usual that  they  struck  the  public  as  wild  and  scandalous 
and   unintelligible,    even    though    amusing.      When    he 

[15] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


first  appeared,  he  stood  as  a  representative  of  a  wholly 
new  taste,  a  wholly  new  view  of  life.  The  governing 
ideas  or  tastes  that  he  found  were  his  aversion.  He 
brushed  them  all  aside  and  undertook  to  reform  that 
society  for  which  he  worked.  And  to  an  extent  he  really 
succeeded.  He  changed  the  people  of  those  king- 
doms as  if  they  had  been  put  into  a  new  mould.  He 
began  as  the  lonely  one,  the  stranger,  giving  and  re- 
ceiving only  opposition.  He  ended  with  being  the  mas- 
ter before  whom  all  bowed  down.  Whatever  was  thrown 
into  oblivion  by  him  was  forgotten;  the  new  intro- 
duced by  him  became  the  foundation  on  which  Danish- 
Norwegian  activities  have  built  ever  since.  In  read- 
ing his  works  we  have  even  now  the  feeling  of  being 
at  home.  Back  to  him  a  tradition  reaches  which  is 
fully  alive.  What  existed  before  his  day  is  dead  and 
strange. 

It  has  often  been  claimed  that  Holberg,  in  spite  of 
his  origin,  was  more  Danish  than  Norwegian.  The 
truth  is  that  he  was  more  European  than  either.  His 
knowledge  and  his  understanding  of  life  were  chiefly 
gained  from  his  sojourn  in  other  countries.  He  trav- 
eled more  or  less  in  Holland,  France,  Germany,  Italy, 
and  England.  It  is  true  that  he  lived  the  greater  part 
of  his  life  in  Copenhagen,  where  he  wrote  his  works  and 
ended  his  days.  But  his  character  was  formed  and  his 
genius  trained  before  he  settled  there ;  and  however 
Danish  his  audience  and  the  immediate  field  of  his 
activity,  his  temperament  as  a  writer  and  his  satirical 
vein  remained  Norwegian.     There  is  something  fresh, 

[16] 


The  Awakening  of  Norway 


bright  and  healthy  about  his  writings,  yet  crisp  and 
cold,  that  corresponds  to  the  natural  tendencies  of 
mountaineers  much  more  than  to  the  population  of 
a  flat  country. 

In  all  these  ways,  then,  came  gradually  that  awaken- 
ing of  Norway  which  has  filled  the  last  few  centuries 
and  has  finally  in  our  own  day  brought  the  little  coun- 
try again  into  prominence  as  a  producer  of  ideas. 
When  nearly  two  hundred  years  ago  the  spirit  of  nation- 
alism was  once  more  really  alive,  its  operations  were  not 
confined  merely  to  sentiment  or  to  literary  achievement, 
but,  as  we  should  expect,  affected  also  practical  mat- 
ters. The  Norwegian  people,  in  view  of  their  strength- 
ened economical  condition,  their  considerable  com- 
merce, their  means  and  will  to  defend  themselves 
against  foreign  enemies,  demanded  from  the  Danish 
state  increased  consideration.  They  demanded  that 
branch  offices  of  the  Danish  government  be  established 
in  their  own  foremost  city ;  they  demanded  the  foun- 
dation of  a  national  bank  and  of  a  national  university. 
For  more  than  a  hundred  years  these  wishes  were 
brought  from  time  to  time  before  the  Danish  king,  the 
Norwegians  declaring  that  they  themselves  would  pay 
the  expense  for  starting  such  new  institutions.  But  they 
received  in  return  only  vague  answers,  subterfuges,  or 
even  plain  refusal.  The  Danish  government  feared 
that  if  these  demands  were  granted,  Norway  would 
speedily  separate  from  the  union.  Denmai'k  even 
thought  Swedish  machinations  were  to  be  detected  in 
these  requests,  and  chose   the  short-sighted  policy  of 

[17] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


irritating  curt  refusal  rather  than  arousing  gratitude 
by  compliance  with  such  wishes. 

And  then  at  last  came  the  events  of  the  early  nine- 
teenth century.  The  Norwegian  revolution  that 
occurred  in  1814  began  shortly  before  with  the 
coalition  against  Napoleon.  During  the  Napoleonic 
wars  the  sympathies  of  Norway  and  Denmark  had  gone 
in  opposite  directions.  Denmark,  without  taking  part 
in  the  gigantic  struggle,  had  been  in  favor  of  the 
French.  The  Norwegians  were  decidedly  inclined 
toward  England,  with  which  they  were  in  close  com- 
mercial relations.  It  was,  therefore,  a  severe  shock  to 
Norway  and  one  that  threw  the  country  into  famine, 
when  Denmark  declared  war  against  England.  It  is 
true,  the  declaration  was  made  only  after  outrageous 
insult  by  the  English.  But  still  it  was  a  policy  that 
brought  every  disadvantage  and  suffering  on  the  Nor- 
wegians, who  were  without  the  least  prospect  of  hold- 
ing their  own  against  a  power  that  had  command  of  the 
sea. 

Previously,  Napoleon  had  coveted  an  alliance  with 
Denmark  in  order  to  use  the  Danish  fleet  to  efi'ect  a 
landing  on  the  English  coast.  To  prevent  this,  the 
English  in  a  time  of  apparently  deep  peace  sent  a  fleet 
to  Copenhagen  and  demanded  the  Danish  men  of  war 
and  Denmark's  alliance.  When  these  were  refused, 
Copenhagen  was  bombarded  and  the  fleet  taken  away. 
England's  promise  of  alliance,  however,  was  renewed. 
But  the  Danes,  who  thought  chiefly  of  themselves,  re- 
fused to  consider  the  promise  and  sought  refuge  with 

[18] 


The  Axaalvening  of  Norxcay 


Napoleon.  But  now  he  had  little  Interest  in  an  alliance 
with  Denmark  since  her  fleet  had  been  lost.  It  was 
Norway  and  Denmark  that  paid  the  price  of  that  alli- 
ance, not  Napoleon.  Sweden  meanwhile,  under  the 
leadership  of  Eernadotte,  Napoleon's  brother-in-law, 
had  been  persuaded  to  join  the  coalition  against 
France.  Then,  after  the  war  in  1813  and  1814,  when 
the  powers  had  succeeded  in  defeating  Napoleon  utterly, 
it  was  suggested  that  Denmark  should  pay  the  war 
indemnity ;  and  that  since  Russia  would  not  give  up 
Finland,  Denmark  should  cede  Norway  to  Sweden  as 
a  recompense  for  Finland.  ^Vhatever  the  Norwegians 
had  hitherto  lacked  to  arouse  their  sense  of  honor  this 
scandalous  insult  quickly  supplied.  The  nation  rose  as 
one  man,  declared  itself  sovereign  and  the  only  power 
fit  to  decide  upon  its  future  action.  In  the  teeth  of 
Europe  the  Norwegians  declared  themselves  a  free  and 
independent  people,  and  gave  themselves  a  constitution 
based  upon  the  principles  of  the  French  revolution. 
This  attitude  somewhat  surprised  the  combined  pow- 
ers, who  expected  no  such  manifestation  of  vigor  on  the 
part  of  the  "small  nation  among  the  mountains." 

Bernadottc,  who  was  naturally  the  one  most  inter- 
ested in  the  outcome,  was  commissioned  to  lead  his 
army  against  the  rebellious  Norwegians  and  compel 
them  to  obedience  under  tlie  will  of  combined  Europe. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  Bernadotte,  with  his  well- 
trained  and  well-equipped  army  against  an  insufficient 
body  of  national  militia,  however  brave,  could  in  the 
long  run  have  accomplished  that  for  which  he  was  sent. 

[10] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


But  he  decided  to  use  more  humane  and  politically 
more  safe  means.  He  was  eager  to  end  the  war  and 
have  the  glory  of  coming  to  terms  with  the  Norwegians 
without  further  bloodshed.  A  party  existed  in  Norway 
favoring  a  union  with  Sweden,  Sweden  seemed  to  be 
the  more  natural  ally,  and  some  political  reasons  at 
the  time  also  pointed  in  the  same  direction.  The  idea 
was  not  at  all  unfavorably  regarded  by  the  younger 
more  progressive  patriots.  Bernadotte,  as  the  pleni- 
potentiary of  the  Swedish  nation,  agreed  to  accept  the 
Norwegian  constitution  as  the  future  supreme  law  of 
the  country  and  preserve  the  rights  and  privileges  as 
guaranteed  by  this  law.  Norway  on  its  side  agreed  by 
its  representatives  to  join  Sweden  in  a  union  under  a 
common  king  and  to  give  certain  precedence  to  Sweden 
as  the  larger  country.  This  policy,  so  wisely  started 
by  Bernadotte,  or  King  Carl  Johan,  as  he  later  be- 
came, was  never  altogether  comprehended  by  Sweden. 
The  Swedes  attempted  to  make  the  union  more  and 
more  real,  such  as  that,  for  example,  between  Scotland 
and  England. 

The  Norwegians,  however,  having  the  disastrous  ex- 
perience with  Denmark  to  look  back  upon,  steadily  re- 
fused to  become  a  "province"  for  a  second  time.  In 
fact,  the  inclination  was  to  consider  the  union  a  rather 
unfair  bargain,  granting  greater  rights  to  Sweden 
than  to  Norway ;  although  it  was  well  understood  that 
Norway  should  be  represented  in  the  union  as  an  en- 
tirely free  and  independent  nation  and  receive  due  re- 
gard as  such.     The  squabbles  raised  on  minor  matters 

[20] 


The  Awakening  of  Norxvay 


gradually  grew  to  bigger  and  bigger  dimensions  until 
in  1905  a  rupture  became  imminent. 

Ever  since  1892,  when  the  Storting  first  decided  that 
Norway  should  have  her  own  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs  and  her  separate  consuls,  there  had  been  a  bitter 
strife  between  Norway  and  Sweden.  The  break  came 
during  the  Michelson-Lovland  ministry,  when  it  was 
unanimously  passed  that  Norway  should  have  its  own 
consulates.  King  Oscar  refused  to  sanction  the  meas- 
ure. The  ministry  then  resigned,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible for  the  king  to  form  a  new  one.  On  June  seventh, 
1905,  the  declaration  was  made  that  Oscar  had  ceased 
to  rule  Norway.  Thus  the  ninety-year-old  union  with 
Sweden  came  to  an  end.  Two  days  later  the  pure  Nor- 
wegian flag  (deprived  of  the  union  mark)  was  hoisted 
upon  the  fortresses  and  warships.  On  August  thir- 
teenth a  general  vote  was  cast  by  the  people  of  the 
realm  which  almost  unanimously  sanctioned  the  act  of 
supreme  power.  In  September  the  Karlstad  negotia- 
tions took  place. 

Horrors  brought  about  by  unpardonable  levity  and 
political  short-sightedness  might  at  this  time  have  pre- 
cipitated a  war  and  needless  bloodshed.  But  an  ami- 
cable agreement  was  reached,  largely  through  the 
efforts  of  the  just  and  prudent  statesman.  Christian 
Michelson,  who,  by  his  tactful,  yet  resolute  actions, 
proved  himself  in  that  difficult  time  a  greater  leader 
and  a  better  patriot  than  many  an  over-zealous  con- 
temporary. 

[21] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


In  November  the  Norwegian  people  were  again  asked 
to  vote  as  to  whether  they  would  choose  a  monarchical 
form  of  government  or  a  republican.  With  an  over- 
whelming majority  they  chose  to  maintain  the  king- 
dom. Norway's  ancient  throne  thus  rose  again  to  its 
former  prerogative.  The  Storting  elected  as  king  the 
Danish  prince  Carl,  giving  him  the  title  of  Haakon 
the  Seventh.  On  November  twenty-fifth  the  new  king, 
together  with  Queen  Maud  and  the  crown  prince  Olav, 
made  a  royal  entry  into  the  metropolis,  welcomed  by 
cheering  throngs.  The  new  state  was  immediately 
recognized  by  the  powers,  and  the  whole  world,  filled  with 
admiration,  rejoiced  with  the  "small  nation  among  the 
mountains"  because  it  had  ended  its  long  struggle  for 
independence  happily  and  in  peace. 


[22] 


WESTLAND  AND  EASTLAND 


p  LONG  generation  ago  when  Ibsen  and 
Grieg  and  their  contemporaries  were 
entering  ripe  manhood,  Norway  was 
scarcely  the  modernized  country  that 
she  has  since  become.  These  men's 
impressions,  moreover,  of  their  native 
land  were  largely  drawn  from  a  period 
still  further  away.  Their  works  are 
reminiscent  of  the  time  of  their  youth, 
often  colored,  too,  by  the  light  of  ima- 
gination which  ever  tends  to  fall  from 
the  present  back  upon  the  past.  In  that  earlier  Nor- 
way all  material  conditions  were  more  primitive  than 
now,  even  more  crude  and  hard ;  though  not  less  inter- 
esting as  manifestations  of  human  experience.  Differ- 
ences in  temper  and  modes  of  living  produced  by 
climate  and  natural  surroundings  were  sharper  and  of 
deeper  dye.  The  great  length  from  North  to  South 
of  the  Scandinavian  peninsula — greater  even  than  that 
of  the  Atlantic  seaboard  of  the  United  States — caused 
and  will  probably  always  cause  marked  divergence  in 
the  types  of  people  and  habits  of  life  at  the  extremities 
of  the  country.  But  not  merely  so.  A  difference  also 
strongly  marked  existed  then  between  the  West  and 
the  East  in  Norway  itself,  without  regard  to  the  rest 
of  the  peninsula.  Under  the  touch  of  modern  facilities 
and  conveniences  this  difference  is  melting  away.  In 
the  middle  of  the  last  century,  however,  it  was  still 
visible,  not  only  in  the  physical  nature  of  the  country 

[23] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


— which  of  course  has  not  changcd^ — but  in  the  lan- 
guage, in  the  hfe  of  the  people,  their  character  and 
manners,  even  in  their  feelings.  So  great  was  this 
divergence  between  the  West  and  the  East  of  Norway 
that  some  historians  have  thought  the  people  to  be  of 
different  origin.  Such  was  not  the  case,  but  nature 
had  indeed  shaped  them  in  different  moulds. 

The  first  views  of  the  western  coast  of  Norway,  when 
sailing  in  toward  it  from  the  sea,  make  one  almost 
crouch  under  overwhelming  discomfort  and  oppression. 
Far  out  in  the  open  sea  one  is  met  by  rows  of  low,  gray 
rocks,  like  guardsmen  that  look  with  ominous  eye  on 
every  passing  ship.  Around  these  the  waves  break  in 
continuous  restless  fall,  while  above  gulls  and  seabirds 
rise  and  dip  w^ith  chilling  screams.  Some  uncanny 
friendship  seems  to  quiver  between  that  sea,  those 
rocks,  and  the  shrieking  birds.  This  vanguard  passed, 
one  big  black  range  of  mountains  appears,  rising  from 
the  coast  and  defying  the  surging  sea.  No  trace  visible 
of  human  existence  in  this  desert  of  sea  and  stone,  nor 
does  one  expect  or  wish  for  any.  But  suddenly,  as  if 
by  magic,  some  small  seaport  shows  itself  on  the  naked 
coast — just  a  glimpse  of  white  houses  between  the 
cliffs,  boatsheds  and  skiffs  on  the  shore,  ships  at  anchor 
— then  the  whole  is  hidden  behind  the  next  point,  and 
there  remain  only  scattered  creeping  herds  of  sheep. 
Soon  again  nothing  but  the  wind  and  the  bare  rocks. 

Our  vessel  now  steers  into  one  of  the  many  fjords 
that  penetrate  the  mass  of  stone.  Rocks  and  shelves 
close  in  upon  us  and  the  sea  disappears.     A  door  has 

[24] 


Westland  and  Eastland 


suddenly  shut  between  us  and  the  world  outside.  The 
life  wherein  our  thoughts  and  desires  had  before  been 
concentrated  seems  to  sink  flutteringly  out  of  sight 
forever.  With  a  gasp  we  look  toward  what  is  coming, 
and  see  the  New  rising  in  threatening  majesty.  We 
breathe  an  air  that  seems  to  bring  death  to  all  who 
cannot  gain  new  lungs,  in  body  and  in  mind.  For  a 
time  all  before  and  behind  is  closed.  But  again  a 
sudden  door  opens  ahead  upon  unexpected  vistas.  The 
mountains  draw  aside,  and  green  shores,  white  churches, 
and  cozy  dwellings  smile  brightly  and  familiarly.  Big 
swaying  birches  with  long  branches  hang  over  the 
water,  silvery  brooks  jump  playfully  from  the  side  of 
the  mountain  straight  out  into  the  air,  break  into  foam 
and  disappear  like  a  dream.  From  the  sea  to  the  coal- 
black  forest  around  the  upper  row  of  meadows,  all  is 
gay  and  light.  But  we  have  time  for  only  one  single 
free  breath,  for  now  again  the  whole  tract  of  vision  is 
filled  with  gray  hunch-backed  mountains.  Those  near- 
est press  upon  us  almost  to  suffocation.  Above  and 
behind  them  rises  another  set,  naked  from  foot  to  sum- 
mit, broken  into  a  thousand  peaks  and  grooves,  jags  and 
rents — blinding  white  snow  lying  in  sharp  edges,  drifts, 
and  blotches  on  the  blue  background.  On  and  on 
through  the  fjord  we  go,  turning  into  its  arms  and  out- 
lets, winding  around  its  points  and  peninsulas,  and 
everywhere  are  the  snowy  peaks.  They  rule  the  whole 
horizon  and  question  the  traveler  who  ventures  to 
intrude  upon  their  domain. 


[25] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Between  these  dizzy  peaks  that  storm  the  very  heav- 
ens, betv/een  the  narrow  green  slopes  on  the  mountain- 
side, where  tiny  homesteads  cling  to  the  stone  for  very 
life  and  seem  to  need  but  a  breath  to  push  them  into  the 
sea,  we  reach  at  last  a  valley.  Now  everything  broad- 
ens ;  here  are  plains,  more  houses,  more  woods — rest- 
ing places  for  the  eye  and  the  heart.  But  again  we 
move  by.  Cold  glimpses  of  snow  shine  from  afar,  a 
raging  river  bursts  forth  from  the  opening  of  the  val- 
ley, breathes  out  an  icy  breath,  and  winds  in  the 
wildest  twists  and  turns  till  it  falls  here  or  there  into 
a  deep  lair,  where  it  remains  like  a  wild  beast  devouring 
prey  caught  in  a  mad  race.  The  goer  on  foot  beside 
that  river  finds  wet  grass  standing  in  small  clusters 
along  the  road,  raw  cliffs  hanging  above,  and  a  brown 
mountain  lake  waiting  below  for  his  unwary  footsteps. 
And  behind  him  every  hill  seems  to  rise  like  a  live  thing, 
low  bushes  creep  up  and  up,  bent  and  crooked,  array 
themselves  against  the  horizon,  step  into  line  and  say: 

"In  you  may  come,  but  out ?^^    And  suddenly  he  is 

jiware  that  in  the  river,  in  the  hills,  in  the  lakes,  in 
the  winds,  live  those  evil  powers,  the  giants  and  the 
trolls,  against  whom  the  old  gods  fought  in  vain.  And 
there,  beyond,  are  tlie  last  heights  where  no  human 
dwelling  subsists,  where  the  mountains  rule  undisturbed 
and  hurtle  down  their  avalanches  on  the  small  ant-like 
things  called  men. 

What  is  to  be  understood  about  the  land  where  such 
a  nature  dominates  .^  Surely  that  the  modes  of  living 
in  the  East  either  did  not  exist  in  the  West  or  existed 


[26] 


Westland  and  Eastland 


under  such  changed  conditions  as  to  influence  the  peo- 
ple quite  differently.  Though  once  large  woods  cov- 
ered the  coast,  the  West  in  recent  times  has  had  little 
lumber  business  or  cultivation  of  forests,  and  men's 
livelihood  has  been  chiefly  gained  from  the  fisheries. 
A  few  trees,  indeed,  climb  the  mountainsides  where  the 
rocks  shelter  them  from  the  salt  winds ;  but  on  the 
whole  the  vegetation  is  confined  to  grass  (the  chief  sus- 
tenance of  the  sheep  that  are  left  out  winter  and  sum- 
mer), and  the  brown  heather  that  lies  and  trembles  in 
the  wind.  In  the  valleys,  it  is  true,  there  are  woods ; 
and  woods  most  wonderfully  conformed  to  the  nature 
around  them.  The  predominant  tree  in  the  valleys  is 
the  strong,  powerful  fir,  which  presses  its  deep-going 
root  into  the  fissures  of  the  rocks — not  a  tree  that 
dreams,  like  the  spruce  of  the  East,  but  one  that  lifts  its 
broad,  bushy  crown  far  up  in  the  wind,  fights  the  storm, 
and  keeps  itself  in  courage  by  chanting,  like  the  old  war- 
riors, hard  alliterating  rhymes  of  battle.  High  and 
airy  it  is  for  a  man  under  these  fir  branches,  fresh 
and  bright  among  tlieir  yellow  trunks,  and  he  grows 
strong  from  dwelling  beneath  their  coarse  needles  and 
healthy  from  the  resinous  air.  The  dainty  white- 
stemmed  birch,  growing  alike  in  valley  and  on  moun- 
tain, is  tlie  lightsome  sister  of  the  sturdy  fir.  Hardiest 
of  trees,  it  yet  gives  as  nothing  else  does  a  tender  deli- 
cacy and  comeliness  to  that  stern  nature.  On  the  barest 
mountain  it  sways,  in  ilie  foam  of  t1ie  surf  it  dyes 
its  foliage,  and  the  very  home  of  the  glacier  it  bravely 
storms.     Close  to  the  sea,  indeed,  or  to  the  eternal  ice, 

[27] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


the  birch  loses  its  long  curls  and  its  delicate  upright 
bearing;  but  it  maintains  to  the  last  its  feminine  grace. 
Even  in  the  most  barren  places  it  gives  pleasure  to  the 
eye,  and  in  spring  it  brings  to  its  desolate  surroundings 
a  most  exquisite  fragrant  greeting  of  summer.  Often 
it  is  the  one  object  in  those  severe  landscapes  which  can 
melt  the  heart  to  softness  by  its  beauty  or  lift  to  faith 
by  its  bright,  successful  courage. 

A  sensitive  mind  cannot  but  be  deeply  impressed 
by  the  effect  that  this  iron  nature  has  had  upon  the 
people  who  lived  in  it.  In  countries  where  natural  con- 
ditions are  varied  and  bountiful,  the  people  may  be 
independent  and  open  to  many  different  avenues  of 
influence.  But  when  nature  has  a  strong  individuality 
and  offers  few  ways  of  gaining  a  living,  it  is  likely  to 
become  tyrannical  and  stamp  both  the  inner  and  the 
outer  man.  In  such  a  country  conditions  often  pro- 
duce fierce  struggle,  and  every  human  being  who  will 
not  or  cannot  assimilate  himself  to  these  conditions 
is  dwarfed  or  dies.  It  is  easy  to  understand  that  peo- 
ple who  sit  in  the  cold  shadow  of  high  mountains,  who 
day  after  day  look  at  black  rock  and  blue  glaciers, 
who  are  snowed  down  for  a  month  and  a  half  at  a 
time  and  live  in  constant  fear  lest  the  avalanche  carry 
their  homes  into  the  depths  below,  people  whose  hope 
for  a  livelihood  is  in  the  dark  winter  weather  and  on  a 
sea  full  of  danger,  and  who  at  any  time  must  be  pre- 
pared to  venture  life  itself  to  gain  that  scanty  living — 
it  is  easy  to  understand  how  such  people  bear  the  effect 
of  their  life  in  their  character.     Unless  some  ameliorat- 

[28] 


Westland  and  Eastland 


ing  influence  comes  in  counteraction,  man  feels  strange- 
ly deserted  and  feeble  in  such  a  nature.  But  this  feel- 
ing of  feebleness  has  a  very  different  effect  upon  differ- 
ent persons.  Some  give  up  the  struggle  at  once;  hope- 
lessly bent  under  the  weight,  they  sink  slowly  down  into 
a  dark  abyss  of  melancholy  and  pass  the  rest  of  their 
life  as  if  in  fear  and  in  prison.  Others  are  petrified 
under  the  icy  conviction  that  daily  life  is  governed  by 
an  inflexible  fate  against  which  it  is  useless  to  struggle. 
Such  men  and  women  are  often  strong  but  hard,  having 
divested  themselves  of  all  idea  of  happier  prospects 
for  the  future.  Though  they  go  into  danger  calm  and 
cool,  they  pass  with  silent  indifference  all  that  might 
coax  the  heart  to  open  itself  to  mildness.  Endurance, 
courage,  and  expediency  they  possess  in  plenty,  but 
everything  is  as  if  frozen  by  the  awful  conviction  that 
beyond  your  fate  you  will  never  get.  Others  whose 
imagination  is  too  strong  to  be  extinguished  arc  filled 
with  vague  images  of  horrors  and  see  no  advance  for 
themselves  except  by  bending  down  before  the  mysteri- 
ous powers  of  nature.  They  seek  to  ally  themselves 
with  these  pov/ers,  to  pry  into  their  will  and  please 
them,  and  perhaps  even  solicit  their  assistance.  By 
such  minds  nature  is  transformed  into  the  living  beings 
of  superstitious  fear  who  have  man  at  their  mercy. 

Thus  all  are  likely  to  be  cowed  by  such  a  fierce 
nature;  bowing  down  before  it,  some  in  melancholy, 
others  in  obduracy,  still  others  in  superstition.  True 
liberation  of  mind  is  seldom  acquired.  And  though 
such  nature   also   has   a  power  of   creating   Christian 

[29] 


Leaders  in  Noi'way 


resignation,  yet  even  that  God-fearing  spirit  is  often 
as  hard  and  sinister  as  the  physical  surroundings. 
Fanaticism  finds  there  peculiarly  favorable  conditions 
and  burns  like  fire  in  dry  grass.  The  general  imagina- 
tion easily  absorbs  the  idea  of  God's  wrath  and  eternal 
punishment,  but  has  little  room  for  tenderness  and  a 
reconciling  love.  He  who  wishes  to  see  this  ice  and 
stone  nature  of  western  Norway  embodied  in  one  great 
picture  must  read  Ibsen's  Brand,  the  most  tremen- 
dous and  most  one-sided  expression  of  this  nature  that 
our  literature  possesses. 

The  whole  West  v/as  long  bound,  too,  by  traditions 
and  had  a  decidedly  old-fashioned  character.  The 
houses  were  many  and  small,  low  and  dark.  Little  was 
seen  of  modern  improvement.  The  agricultural  imple- 
ments were  more  fit  for  a  museum  than  for  a  farmer; 
and  the  conveyances — the  cart,  the  carjol,  or  the  sled 
in  winter — were  the  terror  of  more  than  one  traveler. 
Within  the  house  the  "high  seat"  at  the  end  of  the 
long  table  was  still  reserved  for  the  head  of  the  family. 
Everything  seemed  centuries  old.  In  language,  in 
dress,  and  in  social  intercourse  the  old  dignity  and 
ceremonial  still  prevailed.  The  bride  still  rode  to 
church  with  a  shining  silver  crown  on  her  long,  spread- 
out  hair  and  with  silver  brooches  on  her  white  linen. 
The  old  strange  songs  and  marches  were  played  before 
her  procession  and  her  wedding  feast  was  not  given  in 
bright,  open  rooms  as  in  the  East,  but  in  the  small, 
close  dwellings  where  the  old  timber  was  black  as  ebony 
from  the  smoke  and  soot  of  generations.     These  darker 

[30] 


Westland  and  Eastland 


sides  of  western  life  would  at  once  seize  the  eye  and 
the  heart  of  any  observer,  and  have  certainly  exercised  a 
most  powerful  influence  upon  the  national  character. 

But  western  nature  has  a  sunny,  lucid  side,  too,  and 
has  given  to  the  popular  mind  a  corresponding  uplift. 
The  brightness  of  nature  particularly  breaks  forth 
in  Spring.  For  those  crags  and  valleys  have  a  Spring 
whose  sweetness  is  nowhere  found  in  the  East.  If  the 
sun  has  been  missing  during  the  long  winter,  its  reap- 
pearance is  so  much  the  more  wonderfully  prophetic  of 
new  life,  new  joy,  and  fresh  power.  Winter  does  not 
disappear  by  inches,  as  in  the  East,  and  Spring  does 
not  come  with  a  mingling  of  snow  and  water.  One 
leaps  away  and  the  other  comes  with  a  bound.  Yester- 
day was  bleak  Winter.  Today  spirits  of  Summer  live 
already  in  air,  soil,  and  water.  They  dance  on  the  melt- 
ing ice  of  the  streams,  they  sail  in  with  the  soft  breeze 
from  the  sea,  they  smile  from  the  bright  sky,  and  they 
exhale  from  every  bare  spot;  for  the  grass  grows  up 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  snow.  From  these  Spring  and 
Summer-day  visions  of  a  sea  as  smooth  as  glass  or  rock- 
ing between  sunny  mountains,  from  green  and  fragrant 
fields  that  break  into  flower  while  yet  in  the  very  arms 
of  ice,  from  a  salt  breeze  bringing  news  of  foreign 
shores — from  these  arise  the  light  and  beauty  that 
play  with  such  exquisite  freshness  and  warmth  over 
the  darker  features  of  that  rock-girt  land.  Herein  is 
the  source  of  the  blue  depth  and  giddy  vivacity  of 
imagination  which  has  characterized  the  people  of  the 
West- — the    dancing    waves    of    playful    humor,     the 

[31] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


flashes   of  wit   that   seem   like   living   sunbeams   in   the 
shut-up  valley  of  pensive  thought.     From  such  visions 
as    these    came   the   wonderful    softness    of    Ole    Bull's 
strings  which  sang  the  secret  of  that   Spring  to  the 
whole  world.     From  these  was  caught  the  musical  lilt 
in   the   speech  of  the  West   and  likewise   the  peculiar 
delicate    beauty    of    many    homes— homes    that    were 
crowned  with  this  beauty  in  spite  of  their  inaccessibility 
and  of  any  suspiciousness  they  may  have  had  of  the 
world    outside.      Where    these    ameliorating    influences 
from  without   have   been   allowed  to  become   a   power, 
where    the    deep,    earnest    simplicity    of    soul    and    the 
unshaken  determination  which  this  nature  produces  have 
received  their  measure  of  light  and  heat,  there  one  meets 
such    warmth    of    temperament,    such    truthfulness    in 
speech  and  manner,  such  purity  and  beauty  of  thought, 
that  no  nature  seems  capable  of  a  more  exalting  influ- 
ence upon  a  nation's  life.     If  the  blue  sky  and  its  stars 
have  thus  been  able  to  look  down  into  the  depths  of 
man,  the  thwarting  power  has  been  counteracted  and 
education  has  been  gained  without  a  stunting  of  growth. 
Many  of  our  noblest  men  and  women  have  exemplified 
this  happy   fusion.      They  have  won  breadth  without 
losing  depth,  have  matured  into  tenderness  and  beauty 
and  yet  not  lost  in  primitiveness  and  solidity.     They 
are  the  finest  product  of  our  land.     Neither  the  West 
nor  the  East  may  wholly  claim  them,  for  they  belong  to 
the   world,    contributing    through    their    own    rounded 
development  the  best  our  nation  has  to  offer  to  the  gen- 
eral consciousness  of  humanity. 

[32] 


Westland  and  Eastland 


******** 

When  one  has  stayed  at  the  coast  for  some  time,  it 
is  impossible  on  crossing  the  mountains  into  the  East 
not  to  be  astonished  at  the  sudden  breadth  of  the  hori- 
zon. Although  the  Westerner  during  a  long  sojourn 
in  the  East  always  feels  a  lack  and  longs  for  his  accus- 
tomed scenery,  yet  it  is  a  great  gain  to  have  before 
him  for  some  time  these  large  cultivated  districts  and  to 
feel  a  loosening  of  the  tension  caused  by  the  threaten- 
ing force  of  the  mountains.  Here  in  Eastland  are 
broad,  expansive  valleys  that  end  in  broad  rivers.  Here 
shining  streams  glide  down  through  meadows  full  of 
thick  luxuriant  grass  and  past  fields  of  tall  grain,  or 
the  tract  slopes  gently  down  toward  a  lake  with  low 
shores  and  jutting  points  that  look  like  fields  and 
woods  swimming  on  the  water.  The  houses  are  either 
placed  on  the  top  of  the  slope  where  they  gaze  out  and 
greet  each  other  with  bright  windows,  or  else  they  are 
along  the  roads  in  the  bottom  of  a  valley  near  a  lake, 
while  all  the  fat  meadows,  yellow  grainfields,  and  dark, 
spruce-clad  hills  are  behind  them.  They  lie  there  sun- 
ning themselves  in  broad,  safe  comfort,  in  quiet,  every- 
day happiness,  roomy  and  cozy,  with  gardens  in  front 
and  big  trees  in  the  yard.  Seen  at  a  distance,  they  all 
seem  to  be  at  their  noonday  rest  and  to  have  plenty  of 
leisure  to  look  out  over  the  water  and  the  road.  There 
is  something  self-complacent  and  sure  about  them,  yet 
one  has  a  feeling  of  their  being  always  ready  to  open 
their  large  rooms  in  unlimited  hospitality.  Means  of 
an  easier  existence  in  this  region  are  evident  even  in 

[33] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


the  soil,  which  is  nowhere  so  stony  as  in  the  West  but 
seems  to  invite  road-making  and  railroad-building. 
Fields  and  meadows  and  the  big  forests  also  speak  of 
more  abundance.  People  here  have  open,  bright  faces 
such  as  are  seldom  seen  in  the  West.  Everything  in 
property  and  income  is  on  a  larger  scale;  one  feels 
almost  well-to-do  oneself  and  finds  life  lenient  and 
agreeable. 

It  has  been  said,  however,  and  with  some  truth,  that 
the  spiritual  power  of  the  West  is  greater,  and  that 
most  of  our  best  men  have  come  from  the  coast  and  the 
mountains.  Agriculture  gives  steadiness  and  persis- 
tence to  conditions  because  its  results  can  be  gained  by 
regular  work  and  do  not  depend  on  chance  and  luck. 
But  on  the  other  hand,  it  does  not  give  that  elasticity  of 
spirit,  that  flight  of  thought,  that  venturesome  courage 
and  perseverance  of  will,  which  are  fostered  by  the 
life  on  the  shore.  The  clay  soil  which  clings  to  the  foot 
also  weighs  down  the  soul,  the  uniform,  everyday  life 
makes  the  imagination  gray  and  creeping,  the  will 
slack,  and  the  whole  mental  life  shallow  and  dry.  Even 
in  the  far  days  of  old  it  was  thus.  Even  then  the  bet- 
ter portion  of  national  strength  was  in  the  West.  By 
people  from  the  West,  Iceland  was  populated  and  con- 
tinents discovered,  and  there  was  the  true  home  of  the 
Vikings.  Thence  alone  could  be  drawn  their  courage, 
able  to  battle  with  the  unknown,  their  deep  earnestness, 
their  imaginative  freshness,  their  salty  humor. 

But  these  opinions  regarding  the  two  portions  of  the 
country  are  not  tenable  in  every  particular.     The  basis 

[34] 


Westland  and  Eastland 


of  them  is  too  narrow.  For  the  eastern  imagination  is 
dark-eyed  and  dreamy  though  slow  in  action.  Though 
it  lacks  the  transparent  blue,  the  rapid  swing,  that 
characterize  the  spirit  of  the  West,  yet  it  possesses  its 
own  mighty  enchantment.  If  the  West  has  the  sea 
and  the  mountains,  the  East  has  no  less  potent  an 
influence — the  stately  forest.  The  tree  which  gives 
individuality  to  that  forest  is  the  spruce — a  kind  not 
found  in  the  West,  but  in  the  East  having  a  growth 
and  color  not  manifested  anywhere  else  in  Europe. 
When  one  faces  these  armies  of  black  trees  with  their 
tall,  spire-like  tops  and  low,  swaying  branches  that  seem 
to  cover  up  some  hidden  treasure,  one  stands  before  the 
Romance  of  the  East.  Here  in  the  unbroken  quiet  of 
majesty  where  only  a  falling  twig,  a  frightened  animal, 
or  a  band  of  lurking  gipsies  interrupt  the  solitude — 
here  the  dark-eyed  huldre  lives.  Here  the  arrow  of 
the  huntsman  strikes  unawares  old  churchbells  that 
have  been  silent  for  a  hundred  years.  Here  the  air  is 
heavy  with  talcs  of  the  past  which  the  stiff-bearded  for- 
est giants  tell  each  other  over  a,nd  again — tales  of  the 
life  they  once  saw,  the  chivalrous  plays  and  festivals  on 
the  noble  estates  that  are  no  more.  For  they  also  saw 
the  great  places  deserted  during  the  Black  Death,  and 
as  the  years  slipped  by,  the  giants  quietly  moved  on 
into  the  yard,  gazed  through  the  windoAvs  into  the 
empty  rooms,  and  have  held  guard  for  centuries  around 
the  abandoned  homes.  If  in  the  moonlight  one  walks 
along  the  edge  of  these  forests  and  looks  at  the  moving 
black   spires   against  tlie   sky,  feels   the   cool  air  they 

[35] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


breathe  forth  and  inhales  the  fresh  odor  of  their  nee- 
dles, listening  as  they  whisper  together  in  indescribable 
moaning  singsong,  never  forgotten  when  once  heard, 
one  understands  that  they  have  indeed  a  secret  to  watch 
over.  They  are  the  source  of  the  countless  songs  and 
stories,  the  unknown  kingdom  where  the  creative  imagi- 
nation finds  a  home.  One  understands  that  if  ever  these 
woods  were  laid  quite  low,  something  great  and  im- 
portant would  be  lost  to  the  nation ;  all  would  be  turned 
into  the  barren  ground  of  cold  materiality  and  the 
soul  would  be  panting  for  the  woods  of  old  with  their 
shade,  their  dew,  their  fragrance. 

Perhaps  these  emanations  of  mystery  and  greatness 
whispered  to  the  listening  mind  are  not  wholly  lost  even 
when  the  forest  goes  forth  on  its  practical  mission  of 
service  to  the  economic  well-being  of  its  country,  when 
the  yellow  logs  have  left  their  quiet  home  on  the  hills 
and  have  sung  their  last  hymn  in  the  sawmill  or  said 
goodbye  to  the  fatherland  and  sailed  across  the  ocean. 
As  the  old  trusty  giants  sink  one  after  another  under 
the  axe,  the  groans  and  crash  of  the  breaking  down 
resound  in  the  forest,  and  their  comrades  whisper  the 
sad  news  far  off  in  the  distant  woods.  In  the  evening 
the  workmen  gather  in  the  huts,  the  fire  glows  lustily, 
coffee  is  cooked,  and  burning  torches  light  up  the 
fantastic  scene.  And  then  the  falling  giants  exhale 
their  first  lore — the  romance  of  their  stories ;  while  out 
in  the  shed  the  horses  shiver  in  the  cold. 

Soon  the  forest  has  ended  the  first  part  of  its  jour- 
ney, and  the  lumber  is  turned  into  the  broad  way  of 

[36] 


Westland  and  Eastland 


general  usefulness.  One  portion  remains  in  the  country 
built  into  bridges  and  houses,  and  looks  at  its  brethren 
that  still  stand  and  murmur  in  the  wind.  Its  life  in 
freedom  is  over,  the  age  of  its  possibly  higher  purpose 
begun.  Yet  faint  traces  of  its  former  existence  remain. 
From  now  on  it  tells  ghost  stories,  in  dark  outhouses 
or  far  in  the  country  when  it  has  become  very  old. 
Other  portions  go  perhaps  to  greater  events  but  to  the 
same  whispering  silence.  The  magnificent  trees  which 
become  ships  and  carry  their  comrades  away  with  them, 
may  lie,  even  in  the  great  centres  of  trade,  and  talk 
in  the  depth  of  the  sea  or  breathe  up  from  it  those 
strange  stories  which  the  sailors  bring  home  with  them. 

Our   forest  thus  enters  the  life  of  the 

great  world.  But  the  poets  and  dreamers  at  home 
never  quite  cease  to  miss  it  and  mourn  over  it.  They 
touch  more  gently  the  standing  trees  because  of  their 
comrades  that  are  gone,  and  to  their  listening  hearts 
the  forest  mysteries  are  open  secrets. 


[37] 

440SS8 


HENRIK  WERGELAND^ 


^N  1814  occurred  the  greatest  single 
m  event  in  the  history  of  Norway  during 
the  nineteenth  century.  It  was  the 
meeting  at  Eidsvold  of  a  Httle  body 
of  statesmen  to  frame  a  national  con- 
stitution for  Norway.  The  union  with 
Denmark  having  been  broken  by  the 
treaty  of  Kiel,  Norway  was  determined 
to  decide  its  destiny  for  itself.  To 
this  Norwegian  Congress  was  sent  a 
young  preacher  and  teacher  from 
Christiansand  named  Nicolai  Wergeland."  He  had 
been  previously  known  in  national  affairs,  as  is  witnessed 
by  his  stirring  appeal  for  a  national  university;  which 
indeed  had  been  founded  in  1811.  He  soon  became  one 
of  the  most  prominent  and  influential  members  of  the 
Congress.  He  was  aggressively  antagonistic  toward 
Denmark,  whose  treatment  of  Norway  he  called  crimi- 
nal. The  idea  of  a  voluntary  union  with  Sweden, 
which  sprang  up  in  the  Assembly,  had  at  first  his 
sympathy  and  soon  his  earnest  defense.  He  formed  a 
warm  attachment  to  the  new  Swedish  king,  Carl  Johan, 
Napoleon's  former  leader,  Marechal  Bernadotte,  whose 
brilliant  exploits  as  a  soldier  and  whose  generous  bene- 
factions in  the  North  had  won  for  him  many  other 
patriots  as  staunch  as  Wergeland.  The  king  on  his 
side  admired  Wergeland's  shrewd  caution,  practical 
ability,  and  patriotic  breadth  of  view ;  and  he  was  will- 

iPronounced  Vairg' (c)lan;    g  hard,  e  short,  slightly  sounded. 
-See  Frontispiece. 

[38] 


ilenrik   Wergeland 


Henrik   Wergeland 


ing  to  recognize  and  reward  them,  especially  since  in 
part  through  Wergeland's  efforts  a  union  of  Norway 
with  Sweden  was  finally  effected. 

To  this  position  of  political  importance,  intellectual 
leadership,  and  friendly  relation  with  the  ruling  powers, 
Henrik  Wergeland  was  heir.  Though  of  a  character 
and  temper  quite  different  from  his  father  and  having 
an  entirely  different  career,  he  too  became  a  political 
and  intellectual  leader.  At  the  time  of  the  Eidsvold 
Congress  Henrik  was  a  child  of  six.  Not  long  after- 
ward Nicolai  Wergeland  received  the  living  at  Eids- 
vold parish  and  for  the  rest  of  his  life  remained  there 
as  Dean  in  the  State  Church  (Lutheran)  and  as  occa- 
sional court  preacher.  At  Eidsvold  Henrik  passed  his 
boyhood. 

While  a  child  he  was  not  considered  remarkable,  but 
a  little  later  his  genius  developed  as  suddenly  as  a 
northern  spring.  In  1825  he  became  a  student  at  the 
new  national  university.  Two  years  afterward  he  was 
already  known  as  a  poet  of  indisputable  originality, 
turbid  and  turgid,  but  with  extraordinary  luxuriance 
and  primitiveness.  Poem  after  poem  appeared,  lyrics 
and  romances,  farces,  dramas  and  tragedies;  and  all 
the  while  he  was  studying  for  his  final  degree  in  divinity 
and  was  writing  steadily  for  newspapers.  A  tremen- 
dous poem,  seven  hundred  and  twenty  pages  long,  a  kind 
of  philosophic  epic  called  Creation,  Man,  and  Mes- 
sias,  he  tossed  off  almost  extempore.  It  is  a  remark- 
able proof  of  his  easy  productivity  at  this  time.  He 
was  a  hot-headed  3'outh,  boiling  over  with  plans  and 

[39] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


ideas,  a  republican  and  a  revolutionist,  an  ultra- 
Norwegian,  a  friend  of  the  people,  an  advocate  of  the 
low  and  down-trodden ;  always  maturing  new  schemes 
for  popular  elevation  and  improvement,  never  thinking 
of  his  own  profit,  continually  exposing  himself  to  new 
rebuffs,  yd  never  disheartened,  always  fresh  and  vigor- 
ous, full  of  enthusiasm  and  optimistic  faith.  In  all 
these  ways  he  was  said  to  be  like  his  grandfather,  a 
"turbulent  head,"  whose  family  belonged  in  Bergens 
Stiff  on  the  West  coast,  a  region  where  people  are 
known  as  among  the  liveliest,  brightest,  most  hot- 
blooded  and  enterprising  in  the  whole  country. 

The  Congress  of  1814  had  brought  to  Norway  inde- 
pendence as  a  nation.  But  the  liberty  granted  by  the 
new  constitution  had  now  to  be  made  real  and  practical 
by  growth  in  the  inner  mental  life  of  the  people  itself. 
For  though  a  people  receive  liberty  as  a  gift  or  at  small 
cost,  it  will  no  less  surely  have  to  earn  all  and  pay 
gradually  what  it  did  not  pay  at  first.  The  national 
instinct  now  demanded  manifestations  in  literature, 
language,  art,  science,  and  in  enlightened  public 
opinion,  which  should  justify  the  nation's  claims  to 
recognition  from  other  nations.  The  break  from  the 
domination  of  Denmark  and  the  tie  with  Sweden  both 
called  out  an  exaggerated  defensiveness  and  emphasis 
of  self  in  the  Norwegians.  They  needed  a  leader  who 
would  incorporate  their  new  aims  and  their  new  con- 
sciousness of  pov.^cr  and  will — a  leader  whose  activity 
would  be  the  best  justification  of  their  claims,  and  who 
would  unite  their  scattered  forces  under  one  head.     He 

[40] 


Henrik   Wergeland 


who  best  represented  these  aspirations  and  answered 
these  needs  was  the  young  poet,  barely  out  of  his  teens, 
but  already  brimming  over  with  the  sense  of  his  mission 
and  eager  to  fulfill  the  patriotic  obligations  with  which 
he  had  charged  himself. 

Like  poet-politicians  of  the  time  in  other  countries, 
Wergeland  welcomed  the  July  revolution  of  1830  in 
France  as  the  coming  of  a  golden  age,  and  watched 
European  politics  with  the  greatest  eagerness.  He 
thought  a  republic  the  best  form  of  government,  but  he 
made  few  if  any  efforts  to  force  that  form  upon  his  own 
country.  He  advocated  the  idea  rather  as  the  last 
logical  conclusion  of  his  political  philosophy  than  as 
a  practical  solution  of  immediate  difficulties.  The  no- 
tion of  general  brotherhood  also  appealed  to  him,  and 
this  led  him  to  advocate  a  Scandinavian  union  or  fed- 
eration of  states,  for  which  the  United  States  and  its 
constitution  gave  him  inspiration.  But  even  while  he 
was  dreaming  of  a  Northern  union,  his  attention  was 
necessarily  drawn  to  the  direct  interests  of  Norway 
itself. 

A  smouldering  conflict  had  long  existed  between  the 
two  layers  of  population  in  Norway — the  native  Nor- 
wegian on  the  one  side  and  on  the  other  the  official 
class.  This  class  had  sprung  partly  from  generations 
of  Danes  sent  to  Norway  as  executives,  and  partly  from 
other  foreigners  who  mingled  rather  with  the  Danish 
element  than  with  the  native  peasantry.  The  conflict 
between  these  two  elements  was  now  bearing  its  first 
fruit   in   the  formation  of  an  ultra-Norwegian  party. 

[41] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


As  soon  as  that  happened,  the  cosmopohtan  Werge- 
land  became  more  Norv/egian  than  anybody;  and  the 
opposition  to  the  encroachment  of  either  of  the  other 
nortliern  states  found  its  most  determined  spokesman 
in  him  who  had  just  before  been  advocating  a  Scandina- 
vian union.  Yet  tliere  was  no  real  contradiction  in 
this.  His  ideal  was  in  essence  national,  and  the  union 
he  thought  of  was  to  be  merely  a  combination  of  kin- 
dred nationalities.  His  attitude  was  largely  misunder- 
stood, however,  owing  to  the  bitterness  with  which  he 
was  attacked.  Yet  his  behavior  during  this  long  po- 
litical strife  savored  more  of  political  wisdom  than  that 
of  his  adversaries.  For  he  represented  a  sound,  neces- 
sary instinct  of  self-preservation,  a  keen,  clear-sighted 
effort  to  protect  the  national  from  outside  usurpation 
till  it  had  grown  strong  enough  to  maintain  itself  with- 
out defensive  measures.  Half  a  generation  had  passed 
since  the  adoption  of  the  constitution,  and  still  all 
forms  of  life  were  as  yet  running  in  the  old  grooves. 
But  now  a  peculiar  restlessness  became  evident  in  the 
nation  at  large,  a,  feeling  that  the  constitution  so  adored 
was  a  pledge  which  the  nation  had  to  fulfill.  Of  the 
significance  of  this  restlessness  Henrik  Wergeland 
seems  to  have  been  more  clearly  aware  than  anyone; 
and  he  did  more  to  keep  the  inner  stirring  alive  and 
urge  it  on  to  manifestation  in  deeds.  His  poetry  at 
this  time  possesses  the  same  restlessness  and  stormy 
character  as  the  popular  feeling  expressed.  It  sprang 
from  a  sense  of  new  power,  not  quite  conscious  of  itself 
or  certain  of  its  aim.      That  he  was  right  later  events 

[42] 


Henrik   Wergeland 


have  fully  proved.  The  background  of  his  conception 
of  nationality  was  not  dreani}^  sentiment.  Though 
poetical,  it  was  not  mystical,  but  was  the  thought  of 
natural  progress  and  was  an  ideally  rational  aim  such 
as  both  nations  and  individuals  must  hold. 

To  understand  the  conflict  in  the  nation  at  this  time, 
it  must  be  remembered  that  the  Norwegian  peasants 
were  not  and  had  never  been  serfs  immovably  attached 
to  the  land,  as  had  been  the  case  in  other  countries. 
They  were  not  in  subjection  to  territorial  lords,  but 
were  themselves  landowners,  rulers  of  small  private  do- 
mains. In  the  middle  ages  they  had  been  a  most  proud, 
independent  and  self-governing  class  of  people.  Only 
gradually  had  their  share  in  government  slipped  away 
from  them  (cf.  pp  5-7),  and  they  still  retained  their 
dignity  and  independence  of  feeling.  To  be  a  peasant 
in  Norway  was  to  belong  to  the  truly  national  element 
of  the  population,  to  be  among  those  who  own^d  their 
homes,  cultivated  their  lands,  and  kept  their  profits. 
The  opposition  to  existing  conditions  which  now  arose 
and  created  the  ultra-Norwegian  party  was  active 
chiefly  in   this   independent,  land-owning  peasantry. 

The  opposition  was  indeed  both  political  and  liter- 
ary, but  in  its  political  aspect  it  was  an  effort  of  the 
peasant  class  against  the  ofl^cial  class,  who  were  mostly 
Danish  in  sympathy  and  who  as  the  peasants  felt 
had  dominated  politics  too  long.  Members  of  the  offi- 
cial class  had  indeed  been  in  the  majority  in  the  Con- 
gress of  1814,  but  the  democratic  ideal  then  prevalent 
everywhere  had  so  operated  in  them,  too,  that  they  had 

[43] 


Leaders  in  None  ay 


themselves  abolished  nobility  and  the  idea  of  an  upper 
house  of  government.  They  fixed  the  right  to  vote 
merely  upon  ownership  of  land  and  official  position. 
By  these  two  standards  the  greater  share  in  govern- 
ment would  in  time  come  to  the  peasants,  since  there 
would  always  be  more  landowners  than  officials.  At 
first  the  peasants,  in  their  feeling  of  political  imma- 
turity united  their  votes  for  the  official  class ;  and  the 
early  national  assemblies  after  1814  had  been  mainly 
composed  of  members  of  this  class.  To  their  praise  it 
must  be  said  that  they  showed  themselves  worthy  of 
their  traditions.  They  maintained  the  dignity  of  the 
assembly  and  the  rights  of  the  constitution  against  the 
repeated  attempts  made  by  Sweden  to  increase  Swedish 
privileges  in  the  union  and  to  press  Norway  down  to  an 
inferior  rank.  The  peasant  members  joined  bravely  in 
this  fight  to  preserve  the  constitution  intact.  Gradu- 
ally the  population  woke  to  the  fact  that  the  ruling 
power  belonged  to  the  people  at  large  instead  of  to  a 
class.  Then  the  unfortunate  heady  attempt  began  to 
push  the  officials  out  of  power — an  attempt  which  in 
time  proved  almost  distressingly  successful.  Much  ill- 
feeling  was  aroused.  The  officials,  who  still  counted 
among  their  number  by  far  the  most  intelligent,  best- 
trained  people,  saw  wnth  horror  the  power  gradually 
ledge  in  the  hands  of  the  more  numerous  but  less 
prepared  peasantry. 

Although  Henrik  Wergeland  was  the  son  of  a  state 
official  (church  and  state  being  one),  he  sympathized 
most   heartily   with   the   peasantry.      He    immediately 

[44] 


Henrik   Wergeland 


joined  their  ranks  and  became  their  spokesman  against 
the  "tyranny"  of  the  officials.  He  undoubtedly  saw  that 
the  peasants  were  not  yet  ready  for  their  political 
mission,  but  he  also  knew  that  they  could  not  acquire 
political  maturity  without  exercising  their  faculties ; 
and  since  they  insisted  on  grasping  what  the  constitu-  ( 

tion  gave  them,  he  wished  to  help  them  in  their  school  of 
political  experience. 

Naturally  in  the  literary  part  of  the  opposition 
Wergeland  was  also  active.  In  fact,  he  was  the  chief 
figure.  The  whole  strife,  indeed,  was  a  strife  between 
two  opposed  cultures.  The  one  represented  by  Werge- 
land had  mainly  English  and  French  presuppositions, 
leaned  upon  the  eighteenth  century  and  its  political 
continuation  in  the  July  revolution,  and  upon  English 
poetical  literature  and  philosophy  and  rationalistic 
humanism.  On  the  otlier  side  was  the  German-Danish 
culture,  which  leaned  upon  the  reaction  by  the  German 
romanticists  against  the  eighteenth  century.  Religi- 
ously, it  clung  to  tiie  old  orthodoxy  as  a  reaction  against 
rationalism ;  and  politically,  it  was  the  first  expression, 
on  Norwegian  ground,  of  the  general  European  con- 
servative relapse,  after  the  striving  in  1830  for  liberty 
and  revolutionary  idealism. 

In  this  literary  side  of  the  conflict,  the  pro-Danish 
party,  hovrever  active  many  of  its  members  liad  been 
in  securing  independence  in  government,  could  not  see 
much  prospect  for  intellectual  life  in  Norway  if  it  was 
separated  from  the  Danish.  At  the  time  the  pro- 
Danish  view  seemed  right.     Danish  literature  was  in  its 

[45] 


Leaders  in  Norzoay 


golden  age  when  a  whole  Parnassus  of  writers  made 
Copenhagen  the  special  home  of  muses  and  graces. 
The  intellectual  party  in  Norway  looked  to  Denmark 
as  its  true  home  and  as  having  the  atmosphere  for  true 
literary  production.  The  contrast  between  the  youth- 
ful efforts  of  clumsy  Norwegian  imitators  and  the  fin- 
ished works  of  the  polished  Danes  seemed  too  great  to 
allow  hope  of  a  literary  life  at  all  equal  to  the  Danish. 
The  reasons  then  apparent  lay  in  the  immaturity  of 
almost  everything  in  Norway — the  narrow,  provincial 
character  of  the  social  world,  the  political  disturbances, 
the  patriotic  bombast,  the  crudeness  of  the  general  na- 
tional life  with  its  "ignorant  peasantry"  as  chief  ele- 
ment, the  lack  of  a  capital  city  that  could  really  lead, 
and  the  absence  of  an  aristocracy  that  might  establish 
a  standard  of  taste  and  give  a  refined  tone  to  society. 
These  opinions  of  the  pro-Danish  Norwegians  were 
confirmed  in  Denmark  itself.  The  Danes,  with  their 
whole  tradition  from  Holberg  down,  felt  superior  to 
the  Norwegians.  What  writers  had  Norway  had  previ- 
ous to  the  separation  who  were  not  influenced  by  Danish 
life?  And  Avhat  had  it  since?  The  fact  that  Nor- 
wegians had  for  many  generations  been  compelled  to 
go  abroad  for  their  highest  education  explains  in  part 
the  absence  of  a  distinctly  Norse  literature.  And  at  the 
present  moment  they  had  no  writer  to  boast  of  as  their 
very  own  except  Henrik  Wergeland,  no  one  who  could 
claim  the  broad  field  and  hold  the  attention  of  the 
public  as  he  did.  But  of  him  the  anti-national  party 
had  no  high  opinion.    In  Denmark  all  Norwegian  writers 

[46] 


Henrik   WergcUind 


were  ignored,  and  Wergeland's  works  were  scarcely 
known  till  late  in  the  century.  The  pro-Danish  among 
his  countrymen  were  alienated  by  his  stormy  lyric,  his 
visions  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  his  disregard  for 
forms  and  laws  held  sacred  by  the  critics.  The  novelty 
of  his  mere  appearance  stunned  them,  and  the  volumi- 
nous often  confused  nature  of  his  productivity,  letting 
good  and  bad,  perfect  and  imperfect,  go  to  press  and 
reach  the  public  red  hot,  made  them  bitter  and  scornful 
toward  this  new  poAver  that  claimed  to  be  so  thoroughly 
national.  They  turned  away  from  the  tumult  at 
home  to  the  other  land,  where  such  storm  and  stress 
did  not  exist  and  whence  they  could  receive  a  superior 
culture  and  aesthetic  pleasure. 

Their  spokesman  was  a  young  student  of  the  same 
age  as  Henrik  Wergeland  by  the  name  of  Welhaven. 
Welhaven's  pronounced  interest  in  aesthetics,  his  con- 
ception of  poetry  as  expressing  calmness  and  clearness 
only,  his  dislike  of  any  political  excess,  and  his  shy, 
sensitive,  melancholy  temperament,  all  made  him  the 
born  contrast  and  sworn  opponent  of  Wergeland.  And 
in  Welhaven  Wergeland  found  his  most  merciless  critic, 
one  who  seemed  often  to  take  pleasure  in  seeing  nothing 
but  chaos  and  leaving  him  bare  of  any  poetical  qualities 
whatever.  According  to  Welhaven,  other  ideals  than 
Wergeland's  must  be  presented  to  the  nation.  These 
ideals  he  himself  showed  in  a  cycle  of  sonnets  called 
The  Dawn  of  Norway.  In  these  he  declared  it  would 
be  folly  to  denounce  Danisli  culture  when  there  was 
nothing  to  put  in  its  place ;  and  he  pointed  to  the  inner 

[1'7] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


rejuvenation  which  alone  can  lead  to  true  liberty. 
Above  all  he  condemned  Wergeland  because  in  his  su- 
perciliousness he  would  deliver  the  nation  over  to  in- 
tellectual suicide  by  prohibiting  foreign  influences  even 
though  such  poverty  existed  at  home. 

But  Wergeland  did  not  wish  to  oppose  Danish  cul- 
ture to  a  suicidal  degree.  He  did  not  wish  to  reduce 
the  Norwegians  to  a  barbarous  condition.  What  he 
saw  and  insisted  upon  was  that  only  through  self- 
activity  could  the  native  and  the  national  grow  strong 
enough  to  maintain  itself  in  later  contact  with  foreign 
cultures.  The  conflict,  of  course,  need  not  have  existed 
at  all  if  the  native  Norwegian  element  had  felt  able  to 
assimilate  without  loss  of  individuality.  But  there  was 
the  danger. 

Consciously  or  unconsciously  Welhaven  then  and  ever 
afterward  misrepresented  the  attitude  of  Wergeland. 
To  Welhaven  the  highest  culture  seemed  concentrated  in 
Danish  life.  To  Wergeland  culture  was  universal,  and 
it  was  this  universal  culture  which  he  wished  his  coun- 
try made  fit  to  receive  by  concentration  and  develop- 
ment within  itself.  The  process  of  preparation  was 
in  a  measure  advocated  by  both  men,  but  in  difi'erent 
ways.  The  struggle  between  the  pro-Danish  and  the 
ultra-Norwegians  lasted  throughout  Wergeland's  life. 
Although  Welhaven  soon  withdrew  personally,  his 
theories  were  maintained  by  a  body   of  close   friends. 

As  might  have  been  foreseen,  succeeding  events  have 
proved  that  both  leaders  were  to  an  extent  right.  But 
for  the  moment  Wergeland's  was  the  agency  most  neces- 

[48] 


A 


Henrik   Wergeland 


sary  for  the  growth  of  the  nation.  And  one  thing  is 
certain- — he  was  never  so  bigoted  as  his  adversaries. 
His  enthusiasm  for  a  national  literature  was  indeed 
exaggerated  and  tumultuous,  but  it  was  necessary  and 
found  its  response  in  national  pride  and  national  ambi- 
tion. The  later  preeminence  of  Norwegian  literature 
has  fully  justified  his  zeal.  His  adversaries,  however, 
would  not  grant  its  value  and  significance  even  for  the 
time.  To  them  it  seemed  evident  that  Norway  could 
not  change  her  condition.  Even  the  language  they 
thought  too  barbarous  for  poetical  expression  and 
far  inferior  in  melody  to  the  Danish.  This  also  Werge- 
land combated,  and  pointed  out  the  superior  right  of 
Norwegian  words,  both  because  they  were  Norwegian 
and  sounded  true  and  familiar  to  people  of  Norway, 
and  because  they  had  a  more  suggestive  fullness  of 
volume  and  thus  approached  the  strong  resonant  tone 
of  the  old  original  language. 

In  the  heat  of  battle  the  pro-Danish  often  forgot 
that  they  had  to  do  with  their  own  countrymen,  and 
their  superior  culture  did  not  prevent  them  from  call- 
ing their  opponents  barbarians  and  spoilers.  Wild 
combats  took  place  in  the  newspapers,  and,  at  times  of 
special  excitement,  in  the  streets  as  well.  Wergeland 
was  of  course  the  arch  enemy  whose  aspirations,  po- 
litical and  poetical,  were  unworthy  of  polite  considera- 
tion. 

A  glance  at  the  literary  activity  of  Wergeland  from 
1830  to  1840  shows  that  he  understood  better  than 
anybody  the  historical  justification  of  the  political  tur- 


Leaders  in  Norway 


moil  because  he  saw  the  ideal  meaning  hidden  under  the 
noisy  quarrel.  Himself  pushing  along  and  exciting  the 
popular  feeling  and  being  in  turn  excited  by  it,  he  was 
in  the  happiest  sympathy  with  his  people;  that  kind  of 
sympathy  which  is  the  surest  footing  for  any  poet,  how- 
ever vague  and  obscure  the  sympathy  may  be  on  the 
part  of  the  nation  at  large.  His  poems,  from  the  epos 
of  humanity  dovv^n  to  songs  for  the  seventeenth  of  May 
(the  day  of  independence),  mirror  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  the  time.  His  farces,  too,  were  political  and 
polemical.  And  besides  being  incessantly  active  as  a 
poet,  he  was  an  indefatigable  journalist.  His  news- 
paper articles  were  innumerable,  mostly  anonymous, 
but  in  a  style  easily  recognized.  Scarcely  a  subject 
that  roused  the  interest  of  the  day  escaped  his  active 
pen.  Destined  only  for  the  moment,  scratched  down  on 
sudden  impulses,  most  of  the  articles  cannot  be  properl}^ 
judged  if  torn  from  their  connection.  They  are  chiefly 
an  expression  of  that  constant  watchfulness  with  which 
he  threw  a  hint  here  and  a  hint  there,  thus  giving  what 
the  infant  democracy  needed — direction  and  guidance. 
They  helped  to  keep  the  people  in  a  constant  vibration, 
conscious  of  how  much  was  yet  to  be  done,  how  many 
demands  had  yet  to  be  satisfied.  The  articles  were  in 
style  epigrammatic,  often  careless ;  but  they  contained 
so  much  positive  and  practical  information,  they  had 
so  much  power  to  agitate  and  to  illumine  subjects  of 
general  importance  that  at  the  time  they  were  of  great 
value. 


[50] 


Henrik   W  erg  eland 


Wergeland's  participation  in  the  events  of  the  day, 
both  political  and  literary,  was  so  prominent  that  in 
the  eyes  of  the  pro-Danish  he  was  the  incarnation  of  the 
ultra-Norwegian  party  in  its  wildest,  most  disagreeable 
form.  To  Welhaven  and  his  party  Wergeland  was  not 
only  impossible  as  a  poet,  but  equally  impossible  as  a 
politician.  In  fact,  he  was  no  politician,  merely  a 
political  demagogue  of  the  worst  type;  following  both 
in  literature  and  government  arbitrary  individualistic 
principles,  advocating  isolation  and  therefore  suicide. 
If,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  we  know  nothing  of  Wergeland 
but  his  restless  activity  in  the  political  agitation,  he 
may  indeed  appear  to  have  been  a  mere  revolutionary 
party  leader,  nothing  more  than  the  chief  of  a  radical 
faction.  But  there  are  other  sides  of  his  busy  life  that 
reveal  quite  a  different  character.  In  spite  of  all  his 
restlessness,  he  pursued  calmly  and  logically  his  pur- 
pose of  raising  the  nation  as  a  whole  to  the  level  of 
its  true  patriotic  aspirations.  The  chief  object  in  his 
life  as  a  citizen  was  to  increase  the  fund  of  education 
and  culture  in  the  nation  at  large.  Education  for  all 
he  regarded  as  the  broad  basis  of  a  true  democracy. 
Herein  lies  the  substantial  difference  between  his  con- 
ception of  national  culture  and  that  of  the  pro-Danish. 
The  pro-Danish  saw  in  "culture"  the  flower  of  his- 
torical development  confined  to  a  select  few,  to  those 
who  possessed  intellectual  maturity,  superior  knowledge 
and  elevated  views  of  life.  Such  culture  would  neces- 
sarily be  aesthetic  in  character.  Tliough  it  claimed  to 
be   national,   it   was   in   fact   mainly   aristocratic.      It 

[.'51] 


a^ 


Leaders  in  Norway 


stood  aloof,  studied  and  observed  "the  people"  as  an 
interesting  phenomenon,  and  treated  in  like  manner  the 
myths  and  tales  wherein  the  obscure  past,  the  primitive 
stage  of  the  people's  life,  still  partly  revealed  itself. 
The  result  of  such  observation  would  naturally  be 
artistic  reproduction  in  song  and  tale;  thus  justifying, 
for  art,  the  attitude  taken  toward  these  phenomena. 

But  in  Wergeland's  conception  of  the  national  life 
this  view  of  the  people  had  no  part.  To  him  the  myths 
and  tales  that  interested  the  fEsthetes  were  supersti- 
tions, reminiscences  of  the  time  when  the  people  were  not 
as  yet  awake.  The  "child  of  nature"  must  be  changed 
into  a  conscious  being,  master  of  his  conditions,  a  free 
citizen,  aware  of  his  rights  and  duties.  The  romantic 
conception  doted  upon  the  dreams  of  the  national 
spirit,  but  Wergeland  demanded  the  higher  conscious- 
ness which  produces  beings  who  can  think.  To  Werge- 
land culture  was  for  all.  It  was  a  development  of  in- 
tellect, knowledge,  reason,  morality,  sense  of  duty. 
Welhaven's  conception  was  far  more  aesthetic  and 
artistic.  The  one  poet  was  a  philanthropist  and  a  prac- 
tical philosopher;  the  other  was  an  artist  and  an 
{Esthetic  philosopher. 

"Our  time,"  said  Wergeland,  "has  understood  that 
the  basis  of  the  happiness  and  life  of  a  nation  is  general 
culture.  If  it  is  not  general,  the  efforts  of  a  few  in- 
dividuals to  raise  the  national  level  can  be  but  uncer- 
tain." Such  declarations  as  these  show  him  most  di- 
rectly and  clearly  as  in  the  broadest  sense  a  man  of  the 
people.     They  prove  his  right  to  receive  the  love  which 

[52] 


Henrik   Wergeland  Statue,  Fargo,  North  Dakota.     Part  of  the 
inscH'ption  is: 

Lyric  Poet,  Father  of  Nonvegian  Literature, 
Friend  of  the  Poor  and  Oppressed, 
Champion  of  the  Weak  against  the  Strong, 
Opened  the  Doors  of  Norway  to  the  Jews. 

The  Statue  is  a  donation  from  Norway  to  the  United  States. 


I 


Henrik   Wergeland 


the  people  bore  him  even  early  in  his  career.  Political 
preparation  or  education  were  not  needed  by  anybody 
to  understand  his  warm  sympathy  which  bloomed  in  a 
thousand  acts  of  charity.  Nobody  loved  the  common 
people  as  he  did,  nobody  sought  so  much  to  benefit 
them,  nobody  else  interested  himself  thus  in  their  cause, 
fearless  of  the  troubles  he  thereby  drew  down  upon  him- 
self. He  shared  his  goods  Avith  the  poorest,  slipped  off 
his  coat  and  gave  it  to  the  one  who  had  none,  and  felt 
ashamed  that  he  could  leave  his  table  satisfied  when  he 
knew  many  who  had  eaten  nothing.  He  won  the  people's 
absolute  confidence.  They  did  not  understand  his  odes, 
but  his  deeds  were  clear.  They  knew  that  here  was  a 
man  who  truly  sought  their  welfare.  And  when  he 
appeared  as  their  teacher  and  adviser,  they  did  not 
meet  him  with  any  of  that  suspicion  which  wonders  why 
such  a  man  should  mix  up  in  their  affairs.  Very  soon 
"Henrik"  became  the  universal  helper  in  every  possi- 
ble adversity. 

From  personal  observation  both  in  the  country  and 
in  the  capital  he  had  obtained  a  comprehensive  knowl- 
edge of  the  general  conditions  and  needs.  In  1829 
after  a  long  tramp  through  the  country  he  wrote  the 
first  volume  of  his  occasional  periodical  for  workmen, 
intended  for  publication  in  a  widely  distributed  paper 
and  circulated  also  among  the  population  as  a  pam- 
phlet issued  by  the  royal  society  for  the  welfare  of  Nor- 
way. The  zeal  and  enthusiasm  that  glow  through  this 
first  address  to  the  people  remained  just  as  ardent  dur- 
ing  his    whole    life.      A    second    volume    of    the    same 

[53] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


periodical  was  equally  successful.  It  contained  "en- 
couragement to  form  societies  in  connection  with  the 
royal  society  for  Norway's  welfare."  And  in  many 
parts  of  the  country  such  local  societies  according  to 
Wergeland's  plan  were  in  fact  established  for  the  eco- 
nomical and  industrial  progress  of  each  parish.  There 
was  sound  political  wisdom  in  the  central  thought  of 
this  pamphlet,  namely,  that  "liberty  is  a  transient  gift 
which  easily  escapes  our  grasp  if  we  do  not  hold  it  fast 
in  small  units."  Seven  years  later,  after  much  strug- 
gle, this  thought  became  politically  valid  in  the  law 
which  established  self-government  in  the  parishes. 

These  papers  for  workmen  he  continued  with  some 
interruptions  almost  to  the  time  of  his  death.  In  them 
he  talked  familiarly  about  all  kinds  of  subjects — about 
drunkenness,  cruelty  to  animals,  superstition  in  one 
form  or  another,  everything  that  pertained  to  the  daily 
life  of  the  poor.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  suggest  even 
that  the  worst  hovel  could  be  made  more  attractive  if 
a  little  paint  were  put  on  its  walls  or  a  few  flowers 
placed  in  its  windows.  In  such  small  practical  ways  he 
tried  to  raise  the  people's  moral  level,  awaken  their 
perception  of  beauty,  and  increase  their  comfort.  Nor 
did  he  merely  talk.  Hosts  of  street  arabs  in  the  capital 
were  his  devoted  friends  and  frequent  visitors.  He  en- 
couraged them  to  study,  lent  them  books,  examined 
them  concerning  the  contents,  made  them  read  to  him, 
got  them  situations — and  all  this  in  such  a  simple, 
winning  way  that  he  became  at  once  their  comrade  and 
their  idol  Avhose  praise  they  strove  to  win.     He  thus  in 

[54] 


Henr'ik   Wergeland 


many  instances  changed  what  might  have  been  burdens 
on  society  into  good  and  able  citizens. 

To  Wergeland  also  belongs  the  credit  of  establishing 
public  parish  libraries.  Beginning  in  his  own  circle, 
he  had  in  a  short  time  a  loan  library  which  he  took  care 
of  himself.  This  example  made  an  impression  on  the 
neighboring  parishes.  Numerous  clergymen  took  up 
the  idea,  the  government  supported  it,  and  thus  not 
many  years  passed  before  each  parish  had  its  collec- 
tion of  books  for  general  use.  He  planned,  too,  a 
"society  for  the  enlightenment  of  the  country  popula- 
tion," a  society  whose  members  should  give  free  instruc- 
tion to  young  peasant  boys  and  also  make  a  yearly 
contribution  toward  the  purchase  of  books  for  free  dis- 
tribution among  the  common  people.  It  was  not  his 
fault  that  this  plan  was  not  realized  till  seventeen  years 
later.  At  least  he  made  the  first  effort  himself  by 
establishing  a  school  in  his  own  home  where  he  taught 
Norwegian  and  geography.  More  than  any  other  man 
he  had  learned  from  experience  that  if  political  activity 
is  exercised  by  people  too  little  versed  in  fundamental 
education,  the  result  is  danger  to  the  state.  In  such 
cases  (as  in  tlie  United  States)  men  cannot  use  to  their 
true  benefit  the  political  power  they  have. 

He  was  active  also  as  a  political  speaker;  and  his 
speeches,  illuminated  as  his  practical  ideas  were  with 
the  glow  of  his  poetical  temperament,  gave  a  true  and 
perfect  picture  of  his  ideal  of  a  Norwegian  state.  In 
one  of  them  he  beautifully  reconciled  the  national  with 
the  universal  Avhen  at  the  unveiling  of  a  monument  of 

[55] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


a  prominent  patriot  he  said :  "Like  this  column  we  will 
be  Norwegian  in  our  make-up,  in  speech,  character,  and 
grace ;  and  yet,  though  keeping  the  glory  of  Norwegian 
citizenship,  we  will  look  full  and  wide  into  the  Avorld." 

A  question  which  occupied  Wergeland  for  ten  years 
or  more  was  the  admittance  to  Nonvay  of  Jews.  The 
constitution  refused  them  entrance.  Not  many  occa- 
sions had  arisen  to  act  on  the  regulation,  but  there  had 
been  enough  to  arouse  indignation  among  enlightened 
people;  and  at  length  the  absurdity  and  inconsistency 
of  such  a  measure  in  a  constitution  based  on  liberal 
and  democratic  principles  were  amply  revealed.  Nor- 
way had  made  her  first  state  loan  from  a  Jewish  bank- 
ing house  in  Hamburg.  Now  when  in  1834  a  new  loan 
was  to  be  negotiated,  the  necessary  conference  between 
the  head  of  the  Norwegian  department  of  finance  and 
the  head  of  the  Jev\ash  bank  could  not  take  place  till 
the  government  issued  a  letter  of  safe  conduct  for  the 
Jew.  It  was  valid  for  six  weeks,  but  because  of  illness 
was  not  used.  The  government  then  had  to  issue 
another  for  the  representative  of  the  banking  house,  who 
was  no  less  a  personage  than  Salomon  Heine,  uncle  of 
the  famous  German  poet. 

As  the  warm-hearted  spokesman  of  religious  tolerance 
and  common  sense,  Wergeland  rose  up  against  such 
conditions  and  had  an  amendment  proposed  in  the 
national  assembly.  He  also  vigorously  advocated  the 
cause  in  prose  and  verse.  The  amendment  was  sup- 
ported by  a  host  of  the  able  and  intelligent,  and  the 
best  speakers  defended  it,  even  men  who  had  opposed 

[.56] 


Henrik   Wergeland 


Wergeland  on  other  matters.  But  the  measure  did  not 
get  the  necessary  majority,  owing  to  the  votes  of  some 
of  the  clergy  and  many  of  the  peasants.  That  was  a 
disappointment  to  Wergchxnd — staunch  friend  of  the 
peasants.  But  he  kept  up  the  contest.  Among  other 
things  in  defense  of  the  cause  he  published  a  small  col- 
lection of  poems  called  The  Jew,  Nine  Blooming 
Branches  from  a  Thornhush.  A  little  later  came 
another,  The  Jewess,  Eleven  Blooming  Branches  etc. 
Even  after  a  year's  illness  and  after  a  second  assembly 
had  rejected  the  measure,  his  zeal  was  as  warm  and 
fresh  as  ever.  Nothing  gives  better  evidence  of  his 
enthusiastic  interest  in  the  cause  than  the  poems  just 
mentioned.  They  are  political  in  a  way,  but  the  politi- 
cal element  is  united  and  fused  with  the  most  delicate, 
noble  poetry.  We  cannot  read  The  Three  without 
being  won  by  the  grace  with  which  tolerance  is 
preached,  and  by  the  beauty  and  truthful  coloring  of 
the  oriental  life  depicted,  at  once  brilliant  and  naive. 
Who  can  lielp  being  inspired  by  the  sad  yet  mild  indig- 
nation of  The  Wreck?  Or  of  Moses  on  the  Moun- 
tain? And  Christmas  Eve  surpasses  them  all  in 
majesty  and  touching  beauty. 

Wergeland  did  not  live  to  witness  tlie  victory.  It 
was  not  gained  till  1851,  six  years  after  his  death. 
But  he  had  done  more  for  it  than  anybody,  and  even 
while  the  measure  was  still  pending,  the  reward  for  his 
activity  came  from  the  gratitude  of  the  excluded 
people.  Before  his  countrymen  could  erect  a  monu- 
ment in  his   honor,  the  Jews  did  it.      In  Sweden  and 

[57] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Denmark  within  the  Jev.-ish  congregations  money  was 
raised  for  the  purpose.  The  monument  was  unveiled  in 
1847  in  Stockholm,  because  the  contributors  had  as 
yet  no  access  to  Norway.  With  letters  of  safe  conduct 
a  deputation  brought  it  to  Christiania,  where  it  was 
again  unveiled  in  June  1849.  Its  face  inscription  is: 
"Henrik  Wergeland,  the  tireless  champion  for  men's 
and  citizens'  freedom  and  rights."  On  the  reverse  are 
the  touching  words :  "Grateful  Jews  outside  Norway 
erected  this  in  his  memory."  A  more  beautiful  and 
affecting  memorial  than  this  simple  Gothic  temple  with 
its  inscriptions  no  poet  has  ever  received. 

When  one  comes  to  speak  of  Wergeland  just  as  a 
poet,  one  is  tempted  to  say  first  of  all  that  the  place 
to  think  of  him  and  approach  him  is  not  in  a  room, 
within  walls  that  shut  off  our  view,  but  out  in  the  open 
air  under  the  tent  above  and  the  traveling  clouds — 
those  "wonderlands  of  the  sun"^ — v/hose  praise  he  sang 
and  to  which  his  poetry  may  be  likened:  out  among 
the  Avoods  and  the  meadows  he  loved  and  where  he  felt 
at  home.  For  walls  and  doors  do  not  suggest  that 
spirit  of  freedom,  that  true  human  expansion,  whose 
apostle  he  was.  Beyond  the  expression  of  patriotic 
devotion — of  which  so  much  has  here  been  said — and 
beyond  the  expression  of  general  brotherhood  and  of 
human  love,  his  poetry  is  above  all  a  celebration  of 
nature.  The  sun,  the  earth,  the  universe  are  to  him 
constant  sources  of  inspiration.  His  is  a  poetry  whose 
richness  of  color  and  beauty  of  im.agery  can  be  equalled 
by   few   and    surpassed   by    still    fewer.      To   English- 

[58] 


Monument  Given  l>i/  ./iic.i  Id  Wergeland 


Henrik   Wergeland 


speaking  people  Shakespeare  represents  the  acme  of 
enthusiastic  language,  the  highest  reach  of  splendor  in 
glowing  expression.  And  the  same  symphonic  beauty 
of  style,  the  same  profusion  of  imagery  and  color  are 
characteristic  of  Henrik  Wergeland; — with  the  differ- 
ence that  his  power  is  lyric  rather  than  dramatic,  and 
he  applies  his  art  to  describe  the  world,  the  cosmos, 
rather  than  man,  the  microcosmos.  Compared  with 
his  robust,  many-colored  sensuousness,  the  seraphic 
brilliancy  of  Shelley  often  grows  pale  and  the  ecstatic 
contemplation  of  Wordsworth  didactic.  The  romantic 
age  fostered  such  poets,  worshippers  of  Nature,  in 
which  their  souls  v.-ere  at  liberty  to  ramble,  ejaculating 
dithj'rambs  at  every  shrine,  intoxicated  with  the  mag- 
nificance  of  the  great  Vesture  of  Spirit.  Wergeland, 
too,  lies  at  the  feet  of  Nature,  yet  not  in  a  speculative  or 
femininely  sensitive  or  mystical  attitude.  He  worships 
with  the  feeling  of  pure,  jubilant  youth,  with  enthusi- 
asm glowing  warm,  and  with  a  note  of  virility  that  most 
romanticists  lack. 

It  is  a  sad  fact  for  Norwegians  that  Wergeland's 
true  position  among  the  great  poets  of  the  world  is 
not  and  perhaps  cannot  be  generally  understood:  that 
we  have  to  sing  his  praise  to  people  incredulous  because 
they  have  no  means  of  knowing  the  facts  or  are 
too  foreign  to  our  national  spirit  to  appreciate  the 
character  of  his  production.  To  put  his  work  into 
translation  would  be  as  difficult  as  to  translate  the  word- 
music  of  Swinburne  and  the  spiritual  suggestiveness  of 
Tennyson.     He  himself  had  brief  moments  when  he  felt 

[59] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


that  the  spirit  of  nationality  to  which  he  paid  such 
ardent  devotion  was  an  idol  that  demanded  too  great 
sacrifices  because  it  allowed  him  so  meagre  an  audience, 
But  such  thoughts  did  not  torment  him  long.  He  felt 
too  strongly  that  in  Norway  he  was  needed  and  there 
was  his  proper  field. 

This  lucid  hope  of  his  for  everything  good  and  just, 
this  contented  spirit,  this  unwearied  buoyancy,  will 
ever  be  one  of  the  sources  of  his  power.  He  is  as  fresh 
as  a  mountain  wind,  as  pure  and  clear  as  a  brook  that 
dances  over  a  rocky  bed,  coming  from  icy  regions 
above,  yet  mirroring  the  beauty  of  the  valley  as  it 
streams  forth.  Such  gladness  and  strength,  expressed 
in  his  inspired  language,  gladden  us.  With  one  master 
stroke  the  cobwebs  of  hesitation  are  swept  from  our 
troubled  spirit — new  springs  of  strength  bubble  up 
from  secret  depths  within — the  clouds  of  meditation 
sail  gaily  before  the  wind  of  new  purpose — we  are  won 
again  to  serve  our  lifework  with  undimmed  devotion. 
His  fame  today  among  his  own  people  is  as  bright  as 
ever,  nay,  even  brighter.  He  is  indeed  an  embodiment 
of  the  spirit  of  youth  such  as  the  nation  loves  to  con- 
template. His  light  has  not  been  extinguished  as  has 
that  of  many  contemporaries,  but  sparkles  today  from 
the  uppermost  height  of  our  national  firmament  in 
undiminished  glory  and  appealing  beauty. 

The  huge  epic  of  his  youth.  Creation,  Man,  and 
Messias,  has  never  been  much  read,  yet  its  ideas  under- 
lie everything  Wergeland  wrote  later.  Based  on  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments,  its  three  parts  present  the 

[60] 


Henrik   Wergeland 


Creation,  the  Aberration,  and  the  Salvation  of  Man. 
The  poem  is  full  of  exalted  poetry  and  sentiment,  and 
its  ideas  are  those  which  for  several  generations  had 
been  leaving  their  impress  upon  European  culture.  In 
fact,  it  is  the  deism  of  the  eighteenth  century  that  finds 
expression  in  this  account  of  universal  history.  The 
striving  thought  of  that  period  in  every  direction  is 
recognizable — Christianity  seen  as  the  gospel  of  the 
rights  of  man,  philanthropy,  liberalism  tending  tov/ard 
republican  government,  hatred  of  oppressors  and 
usurpers,  socialistic  utopias — all  these  are  here 
expressed  in  positive  poetical  form.  Yet  the  poet  does 
not  slip  either  into  a  pagan  or  a  narrow  Christian 
direction  or  into  scepticism.  Indeed,  it  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  in  this  work  is  presented  the  best  poetical 
summary  in  any  literature  of  that  eventful  deistic  move- 
ment in  European  thought.  So  representative  is  the 
poem  of  Wergeland's  own  ideas,  that  on  his  deatlibcd 
he  rewrote  it,  convinced  as  much  as  ever  of  its  value. 
Its  basic  idea  was  the  constant  inspiration  of  his  whole 
life  and  activity.  This  idea  is  that  the  germ  of  per- 
fection is  present  in  the  human  race  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  though  it  may  seem  hidden  or  dormant  for 
long  periods,  it  is  certain  to  revive,  grow,  and  become 
triumphantly  victorious  in  the  end.  But  that  idea  is 
the  basis  of  many  shorter  poems  also,  poems  less 
philosophical  and  ambitious  and  more  truly  successful. 
It  is  on  these  that  his  fame  and  influence  rest. 

His  finest  political  poem  is  The  Spaniard,  in  which 
the    cowardly   policy    of   Ferdinand   VII    in    the   July 

[61] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


revolution  is  arraigned  and  the  final  victory  of  liberty 
warmly  prophesied.  There  are  magnificent  lines  in  this 
poem  and  such  description  of  the  highlands  of  Norway 
as  are  found  nowhere  else  in  our  literature. 

A  strange  and  characteristic  work  is  Jan  van 
Huysum's  Flower 'piece.  In  this  is  the  most  complete 
expression  of  his  myth-making  tendency,  his  poet's 
habit  of  seeing  the  bee  and  the  rose  not  merely  as  an 
insect  and  a  flower  but  as  endowed  with  souls  like  his 
own  soul  and  able  to  enter  into  joyous  communion  with 
him. 

His  greatest,  most  magnificent  poem,  and  one  of  his 
latest,  is  The  English  Pilot.  Ill  as  he  was  when  it 
was  written,  his  impressions  of  the  North  Sea,  the  chan- 
nel, and  the  luxuriant  English  nature  are  lived  over 
again  with  a  freshness  and  intensity  of  imagination 
fairly  overwhelming.  Such  lavish  splendor  of  natural 
scenery  as  Wergeland  here  produces  no  Norse  poet  has 
ever  produced — not  even  he  himself.  Everything  glit- 
ters and  sparkles.  It  is  not  nature,  but  nature  raised 
to  its  highest  potency  by  a  rich,  glorious,  poetical 
imagination.  Within  this  Avonderful  wealth  of  natural 
scenery  the  story  of  the  pilot  is  enclosed.  We  are 
shown  the  busy  life  of  a  powerful  nation  and  historical 
memories  attaching  to  that,  civilization  in  its  great- 
ness and  its  corruption,  the  fresh  life  of  the  sailor  at 
home  and  out  in  the  world,  the  patriarchal  happiness 
of  homelife,  nature  in  her  grandeur  and  her  innocence 
— all  these  elements  are  gathered  and  shaped  in  one 
supreme  finished  mould.     Nowhere  else  did  his  poetical 

[62] 


Henrik   Wergeland 


gifts  find  so  broad  a  playground  or  reveal  themselves 
thus  in  their  fullness  and  variety. 

The  period  from  1839  to  1845  is  most  significant  in 
the  history  of  our  literature.  It  was  a  time  when  much 
old  rubbish  was  cleared  away,  and  many  new  things 
begun ;  a  time  of  ferm.ent  and  clashing  opinions  ;  of  petty 
vanity,  childish  squabbles  and  coarse  invective,  and  also 
of  high  thoughts,  manly  struggle,  and  the  establish- 
ment of  measures  for  growth  in  culture  and  power. 
Welhavcn  and  his  companions  helped  to  make  the  time 
full  of  motion  and  contrast.  Without  them  the  period 
would  not  have  had  its  clashing  incidents,  and  the 
development  v/ould  not  have  been  so  strong,  so  fruitful 
and  so  free  from  exaggeration.  They  contributed  the 
criticism  and  purification  which  every  intellectual 
movement  needs.  But  the  most  prominent  figure  was 
and  is  Henrik  Wergeland.  He  held  this  leading  posi- 
tion not  only  because  of  his  poetical  genius  but  because 
in  him  was  united  all  that  moved  the  young  Norway 
of  the  time; — its  enthusiastic  devotion  to  liberty  and 
independence  and  its  growing  conception  of  a  national 
culture.  He  was  the  young  awakening  Norway  itself 
in  all  its  early  glory ;  storm}^  fermenting,  restless  and 
active.  He  was  this  in  every  way — as  political  agi- 
tator and  champion  of  liberty,  as  ultra-Norwegian,  as 
popular  teacher  and  philanthropist,  and  first  and  last 
as  poet. 

[Tlie  following  remark  is  contributed  bj'^  a  Norwegian-American 
of  repute.  "During  the  national  centenary  celebration  in  1914 
Wergeland's  grave  was  most  beautifully  decorated.  Through  the 
entire  festivity  he  stood  high  aliove  any  other  in  the  history  of 
Norway.  People  veritably  idolized  him.  He  is  universally  called 
'The  Father  of  the  Seventeentli  of  May.'  In  spite  of  all  his  faults 
he  is  and  will  renuiin  the  most  beloved  of  Norse  poets.  Welhaven 
ig  more  a  master  of  style,  but  in  depth  of  feeling  he  cannot 
approach   Wergeland." — Editor.  ] 

[63] 


CAMILLA  COLLETT 

A  Centenary  Tribute 

January  23,  1813 — January,  23,  1913 


i 


S]  HAT  wonderful  power  lies 


Jri 


s  in  a  name  i 
Especially  in  a  dear  and  great  name 
such  as  hers ;  a  name  made  significant 
by  her  own  unspoiled  individuality. 
It  is  a  nimbus ;  something  indescrib- 
able about  it  forces  us  to  pause  and 
long  observe  it.  Bjornson  has  likened 
such  a  name  to  a  constellation  shin- 
ing  down  upon  us  in  peaceful,  ever 
a]  memorable  greatness.  But  in  Camilla 
Collett's  name  we  are  as  much  fasci- 
nated by  the  secret,  the  mysterious,  as  by  the  trans- 
parent and  clear.  We  think  of  winged  flight,  of  the 
song  of  hidden  birds,  of  the  gentle  falling  of  white 
cherry  petals.  The  charm  of  the  mountain  nymph  rests 
on  this  name.  It  reminds  us  of  the  leafy  woods,  the 
river  bank  lying  amid  alder  and  hazel,  and  the  silent 
occult  spirit-haunted  life  of  the  woods  of  Norway. 

She  was  perhaps  the  most  characteristic  phenomenon 
in  our  history — this  clergyman's  daughter  from  Eids- 
vold,  who  became  our  greatest  authoress  and  our  val- 
kyrie,  who  for  more  than  a  generation  in  a  little  cor- 
ner of  the  world  carried  on  the  struggle  for  the  rights 
of  the  woman-heart,  of  the  human  soul,  against  the 
power  of  all  conventionalities  and  customs  and  fought 
it  with  triumph.  Yet  with  all  her  ideal  courage  and 
her  ire,  she  remained  the  same  shy,  reserved  person  as 

[64] 


Camilla  Collet t 


in  her  youth,  the  same  mimosa  in  the  presence  of  out- 
siders, especially  of  the  great  public,  which  repelled 
her  by  its  obtrusion,  its  lack  of  regard  for  talent  other 
than  amusing,  its  indifference  to  the  mental  real  values. 
But  many  a  mother  and  father,  many  a  young  girl 
and  boy,  read  what  she  wrote  and  imbibed  strength  to 
defend,  to  strike  a  blow  for  worth,  to  prevent  the  flower 
of  existence  from  being  trodden  under  foot.  Thus  she 
lived  among  us  year  by  year,  unknown  to  the  multitude, 
hidden  from  the  masses,  forgotten  by  many,  until  she 
felt  her  existence  too  cramped,  too  pallid  and  deathlike, 
and  withdrew  abroad  to  surroundings  which  better 
suited  her  nature.  There  among  artists  and  authors- 
and  their  works  she  breathed  the  free  air  of  eternal 
ideas  and  great  accomplishments.  Self-exiled  thus  as 
she  was,  she  nevertheless  continued  to  bring  to  her 
native  land  the  fruits  of  her  thoughts,  her  work,  and 
her  struggle. 

It  is  now  a  hundred  years  since  Camilla  Collett  was 
born.  The  history  of  her  life  has  been  written  by  her 
son,  a  fascinating  book  which  makes  him,  who  wrote  it, 
and  her,  who  inspired  it,  almost  equally  great.  Unaf- 
fected and  unostentatious  as  herself,  it  tells  in  a  big 
clear  way,  mostly  in  her  own  words,  the  story  of  her 
development.  Her  career  was  in  the  best  sense  free 
from  blenu'sli,  her  speecli  as  pure  as  her  thoughts.  She 
was  not  ignorant  of  the  shady  side  of  existence,  but  she 
abhorred  all  things  questionable,  gossip,  and  foulness. 
None  of  these  penetrated  her  life  or  her  books.  Her 
greatest  work,  The  Daughters  of  the  County  Magis- 

[65] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


trate,  has  few  parallels  in  any  literature.  It  was  the 
child  of  her  sorrows,  and  it  is  a  sorrowful  book;  yet 
it  is  so  exceedingly  charming,  so  beautiful  in  tone,  so 
delicate  in  feeling,  so  artistically  moulded  and  bal- 
anced, so  elevated,  so  powerful  in  its  pathos,  as  to  be  al- 
most alone  in  its  kind.  Of  all  the  books  I  have  read  I  can 
scarcely  recollect  any  that  made  such  an  ineffaceable 
impression  upon  me.  If  any,  perhaps  those  of  Tur- 
genieff,  with  whom  indeed  Fru  Collett  has  much  in  com- 
mon, in  viewpoint  and  manner  and  incomparable 
mastery  of  language.  Yet  there  is  a  difference.  While 
he  in  sad  resignation  seems  to  say:  "Well,  the  v/orld  is 
not  any  better,"  she  v/ith  wrath  dissolved  in  irony 
exclaims :  "Beyond  all  criticism,  the  world  is  absurd  !'* 
Fru  Collett's  work  for  women's  rights  laid  the  nation 
under  great  obligation  to  her,  and  for  this  she  has 
also  been  greatly  praised.  Though  a  true  aristocrat, 
she  was  also  a  true  democrat  in  disposition,  and  was  in 
her  lifework  equally  near  to  the  highest  and  the  lowest. 
Quite  as  much  as  her  brother,  Henrik  Wergeland,  she 
was  a  popular  poet,  a  friend  of  the  people,  and  a  pa- 
triot. For  though  she  might  have  affiliated  with  Danish, 
German,  or  French  interests  and  become  prominent  in 
them,  it  was  after  all  the  Norwegian  women  that  she 
aroused  and  whose  prophetess  she  became.  In  recogni- 
tion of  this  great  patriotic  work,  perhaps  more  than 
because  she  was  a  notable  author  and  master  of  lan- 
guage, her  statue  was  erected  in  Christiania — an  occa- 
sion marked  by  a  festivity  in  which  even  King  Haakon 
and  Queen  Maud  did  homage  to  this  queen  of  genius  as 

[66] 


Camilla  Collet t 


she  stood  there  in  bronze,  still  chilled,  still  brooding,  as 
in  life,  but  lifted  above  the  variable  weather  of  the  day 
and   the  times. 

Perhaps  a  word  of  personal  recollection  will  be  par- 
doned me.  I  knew  Fru  Collet t  even  when  I  was  a 
little  girl.  For  many  years  my  mother  took  me  along 
to  pay  her  visits.  She  had  then  as  a  rule  no  home  of 
her  own.  Her  sons  were  out  in  the  world  and  she  her- 
self preferred  to  come  and  go  as  weather  and  mood 
dictated.  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  have  in  my  mother 
a  mentor  who  could  enlighten  my  youthful  ignorance 
and  tell  me  about  Fru  Collett's  younger  days  when  she 
had  been  the  charming  Camilla  Wergeland,  the 
unequalled  beauty  of  Christiania ;  and  later  when  as  a 
widow  she  strove  to  reach  the  unattainable  in  such 
social  conditions  as  ours  then  were.  There  was  much 
in  the  story  to  fill  the  heart  with  compassion  for  the 
fine  flower  whose  plumules  life's  inclement  blast  had 
shriveled.  My  mother  was  very  fond  of  Fru  Collett. 
Fate  had  not  been  lenient,  and  Fru  Collett  had  helped 
when  there  was  most  dire  need.  In  that  way  I  came  to 
regard  her  with  admiring  deference.  Her  relationship 
to  me  was  distant,  3^et  she  was  much  nearer  to  my 
heart  than  any  of  my  other  relatives.  I  remember  her 
best  in  her  seventies,  a  slender  stooped  figure  that 
moved  about  lightly  with  an  individual  charm  and 
spoke  in  a  soft  rather  veiled  voice.  At  times  indeed 
she  became  resentful,  proudly  straightening  up  and 
gesticulating  violently.  The  pale  face  was  by  this  time 
furrowed  and  the  eyes  deeply  sunken,  but  the  forehead 

[67] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


was  high  and  mighty  and  the  straight-combed  hair  was 
venerable. 

We  always  brought  her  some  dainties,  especially 
cakes,  of  which  she  was  very  fond,  and  she  served  wine 
in  return.  She  was  exceedingly  near-sighted,  and  fum- 
bled about  for  her  glasses  if  she  had  mislaid  them, 
but  her  eyes  were  not  lifeless,  as  near-sighted  eyes  often 
are.  On  the  contrary,  they  shone  with  an  unusual 
heaven-blue  sheen,  almost  like  Grieg's,  when  she  became 
interested  and  sometliing  joyous  warmed  her  sensitive 
soul.  Then  she  suddenly  grew  fifty  years  younger, 
animated  and  overbubbling.  She  was  jocular  and  witty, 
and  her  remarks  had  that  peculiar  "esprit"  which  is 
both  merry  and  significant.  Indeed,  she  was  a  fine 
instrument  which  only  a  skilled  hand  could  play,  but 
when  such  a  hand  touched  her,  she  gave  resonance  for 
every  motion,  both  in  melody  and  chord. 

Generous  she  was  almost  to  a  fault,  yet  without  the 
least  ostentation,  never  mentioning  her  small  kindnesses. 
There  was  always  a  five  or  a  ten  crown  bill  under  the 
lamp  or  the  inkwell  which  she  almost  forced  on  her 
visitor  if  she  thought  it  was  needed.  And  if  she  did 
not  immediately  find  what  she  was  seeking,  she  rustled 
about  in  a  drawer  and  brought  out  something  she  had 
recently  bought  on  a  journey  or  had  long  kept  intend- 
ing to  gladden  the  heart  of  one  or  another  of  her 
friends.  It  was  the  poor  and  the  lowly  who  appreci- 
ated her  and  who  unmistakably  showed  their  feeling, 
just  as  they  did  for  her  brother.  The  great  and  the 
mighty,  in  her  lifetime,  too  often  passed  her  by. 

[68] 


Camilla  Collet t 


The  last  time  I  saw  her  was  in  Copenhagen.  I  had 
just  won  my  doctor's  degree  at  Zurich,  but  my  mother 
had  died  while  I  was  away  and  all  the  drudgery  seemed 
of  little  use.  Neither  of  us  could  say  much,  both  strug- 
gled to  keep  back  the  tears.  But  she  praised  me  more 
than  anyone  else  did  for  being  the  leader  in  such  an 
attainment,  and  she  asked  questions  about  my  studies 
and  was  almost  deferential  toward  my  little  achieve- 
ment. But  thus  she  was  always — full  of  enthusiasm 
and  joy  over  the  accomplishments  of  others,  especially 
if  they  were  women  who  had  reached  thus  some  success. 
It  was  during  this  visit  that  she  said  that  when  I  went 
to  America  I  could  perhaps  make  her  known  over  there. 
At  the  time  I  did  not  have  much  hope  of  accomplishing 
anything  in  the  world ;  my  plans  seemed  almost  ruined, 
and  I  replied  quite  evasively.  But  I  have  often  thought 
about  my  answer  and  regretted  it.  She  so  rarely  asked 
favors,  and  when  she  did  there  was  so  often  something 
to  hinder.  Now  she  had  again  been  met,  and  by  me, 
with  apparent  unwillingness.  And  this  is  why  with  spe- 
cial pleasure  I  tell  through  the  following  translation 
something  more  in  detail  of  her  life  and  work. 

A  Sketch  of   Camilla  Collett* 
"When  were  ever  diamonds  ponderous?     Wliile 
common    graystone    may    be    mountains    won- 
drous." 

These  words  of  her  great  brother  might  be  properly 

placed  as  the  motto  of  Fru  Collett's  literary  activity. 

*Tran,slated  and  arranged  by  A.  M.  W.  from  the  Norwegian  of 
Mathilde  Schjott,  in  Norway  During  the  Nineteenth  Centvry. 

[69]  " 


Leaders  in  Norway 


The  brilliance,  firmness,  purity,  and  beauty  of  her 
style — its  diamondlike  quality — is  what  decides  her 
high  rank  as  a  writer.  By  virtue  of  this,  her  books, 
though  few,  withstand  the  influence  of  time  and  her 
name  retains  its  lustre  undimmed  by  the  greatness  of 
later  authors.  Fru  Aubert  in  a  late  book  says  truly 
that  mighty  geniuses  known  by  all  the  world  have 
since  enriched  our  literature;  but  hardly  any  creative 
work  has  so  revolutionized  minds  as  did  Fru  Collett's 
The  Daughters  of  the  County  Magistrate.  And  with 
the  assurance  of  one  who  lived  through  the  period  she 
declares,  "The  book  had  this  power  because  it  was 
Norwegian,  because  it  began  a  new  form  of  activity 
in  our  social  development,  and  because  it  was  expressed 
in  a  style  which  after  fifty  years  remains  unsurpassed 
in  our  literature." 

Many  things  contributed  to  make  Camilla  Collett 
remarkable.  She  was  born  in  1813,  that  is  to  say,  she 
grew  up  with  our  lately  regained  independence,  at  a 
time  when  much  that  was  old  and  retrogressive  was  cut 
away  and  much  that  was  new  was  brought  into  being. 
And  she  grew  up  at  Eidsvold,  the  garden  spot,  the 
seed-ground  of  the  new  freedom,  where  the  new  condi- 
tions sprang  into  life.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Nico- 
lai  Wergeland  and  the  sister  of  Henrik  Wergeland — 
this  means  that  she  lived  among  powerful  personalities 
who  each  in  his  way  helped  to  tear  apart  as  well  as  to 
build  up,  who  stood  in  the  midst  of  conflicts,  among 
the  foremost  leaders  in  the  struggle,  bringing  to  an 
issue  matters  of  life  and  death  to  the  nation,  and  who 

[70] 


Nicolai  and  Alette  Wergeland 


i 


Camilla  Collett 


were  also  themselves  an  issue  in  the  controversy.  No 
wonder  that  she  too  received  the  latent  elements  of  a 
combative  nature;  that  she  too,  while  suffering  from 
the  fray  and  for  a  time  oppressed  and  cowed  by  it, 
later  developed  those  seeds  of  contention  and  ended  by 
raising  in  her  own  sphere  a  controversy  between  life 
and  death  and  becoming  in  her  turn  an  issue  in  the  con- 
troversy. 

Even  her  parents  represented  contrasts  within  the 
same  society.  The  father,  Nicolai  Wergeland,  was  a 
gifted  boy  of  peasant  stock,  and  with  melancholy 
ardor  recognized  in  himself  all  kinds  of  possibilities  and 
competencies,  which  largely  by  his  own  exertions  he 
developed  through  all  stages  till  he  reached  the  height 
of  the  culture  of  his  day.  The  mother,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  a  fair  accomplished  daughter  of  an  artis- 
tically gifted  family,  complete  in  its  refinement  and 
intellectual  development.  Old  breeding,  fresh  ability 
— such  is  the  union  from  which  the  greatest  minds 
and  choicest  spirits  have  arisen.  But  perhaps  it  is  also 
the  source  of  much  contradiction  of  qualities,  much 
distress,  much  innate  capacity  for  suffering.  Fru  Col- 
lett received  her  full  share  of  this  p;unful  endowment. 
While  her  brother  could  say,  "Surely  from  the  mother 
doth  the  son  inherit  heart,"  and  seemed  to  have 
received  his  mother's  lightsome,  easy,  unrcflectivc,  and 
elastic  temperament,  Fru  Collett  inherited  her  father's 
trait  of  melancholy  brooding,  much  of  his  heaviness  of 
mood  and  inelastic  spirit,  but  also  his  logical  reflective 
mind  and  his  deep  feeling.     On  the  other  hand,  it  is  true 

[71]' 


Leaders  in  Norway 


that  while  Henrik  Wergeland's  talent  seems  to  have 
gone  back  to  his  father's  unspoiled  vigor  with  all  its 
crudeness,  presenting  at  first  but  a  chaos  of  possibili- 
ties and  having  to  pass  through  many  processes  before 
it  reached  its  maturity  and  perfection,  his  sister  was 
born  with  a  perfect  sense  of  art  and  form  and  with  a 
precociousness  of  taste  peculiar  to  highly  cultured 
natures. 

After  severe  studies  and  brilliant  examinations, 
Nicolai  Wergeland  settled  in  Christiansand  as  assist- 
ant teacher  in  the  Latin  School  and  afterwards  resi- 
dent curate.  He  married  in  1807  the  lovely  and  beau- 
tiful Alette  Thaulow.  For  ten  happy  years  they 
remained  in  Christiansand;  he  prominent  as  a  teacher 
and  preacher,  also  as  a  writer,  his  dissertation  on  a  Nor- 
wegian University  especially  creating  a  stir.  Both 
husband  and  wife  were  brilliant  in  the  society  life  of 
the  wealthy  vivacious  busy  town,  and  not  least  in  ama- 
teur comedy  because  of  their  dramatic  talent.  Of  their 
children,  all  born  in  Christiansand,  the  eldest  was  Hen- 
rik and  the  youngest  but  one  Jacobine  Camilla.  She 
was  named  after  one  of  the  dramatic  parts  in  which 
the  mother  had  scored  her  greatest  triumphs. 

Nicolai  Wergeland  was  sufficiently  a  man  of  mark 
to  be  sent  as  delegate  to  the  National  Assembly  at 
Eidsvold  called  to  consider  the  results  of  the  separa- 
tion from  Denmark,  and  he  soon  became  one  of  the  lead- 
ers as  well  as  one  of  the  most  discussed  persons  there. 
While  in  this  beautiful  region,  the  thought  was  born 
in  him  of  applying  for  the  living  at  Eidsvold  when  it 

[72] 


Eidsvokl  Parsonage 


Camilla  Collet  t 


should  become  vacant.  To  be  pastor  far  off  in  the 
Eastland  had  always  been  his  aim  as  a  boy ;  to  work 
among  the  "unspoiled  country  people"  seemed  to  him 
a  most  engaging  prospect. 

The  living  fell  vacant  and  he  got  it.  The  reality, 
however,  was  not  so  full  of  charm  as  he  and  his  lovely 
wife  had  pictured  it.  He  had  seen  the  Manse  first  in 
its  festive  garb,  full  of  people  and  decorated  to  receive 
princes  and  delegates.  The  second  time  he  found  it 
empty  and  half  tumbledown.  Nor  were  the  conditions 
among  the  "unspoiled  country  people"  so  idyllic  as  he 
had  expected.  The  daughter  in  her  writings  refers  to 
conditions  which  filled  her  with  horror.  The  mother 
had  to  begin  housekeeping  on  a  scale  hitherto  unknown 
and  to  deal  witli  many  coarse  and  rude  people. 
Indeed,  in  the  first  years  the  family  endured  much. 
The  mother  probably  never  overcame  the  sense  of 
homesickness  for  those  she  had  left  in  Christiansand. 
The  father  entered  with  energy  into  his  duties  and  the 
needs  of  the  farm.  Diversion  was  found  in  the  beau- 
tiful surroundings,  beloved  by  both.  The  taste  for 
reading  was  easily  satisfied  by  the  pastor's  large 
library,  and  once  in  a  long  while  the  advent  of  a  visitor 
did  its  share  to  mitigate  the  languors  of  solitude. 

"The  closed  paradise  of  childliood,  the  purgatory  of 
boarding  school,  the  dizzy  dream  of  youth,  the  ordeal 
of  practical  life — thus  Fru  Collctt  in  her  novel.  The 
Manor,  characterizes  the  stage,  through  Avhich  a  young 
woman's  life  passes  from  its  quiet  budding  till  it  bursts 
forth  either  to  bear  flowers  or  to  wither.     To  her,  Eids- 

[73] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


void  was  this  closed  paradise  of  childhood.  The  par- 
sonage itself  was  seigneurial  and  stately  in  character, 
with  large  rooms,  high  windows,  broad  easy  stairs,  and 
long  dark  halls,  where  sometimes,  indeed,  in  black  stormy 
nights  the  wind  boomed  unpleasantly.  In  front  was  a 
large  open  yard  and  farther  away  were  the  outhouses. 
There  gathered  all  the  establishment  could  harbor  of 
two  and  four-legged  animals.  What  greater  joy  could 
there  be  for  a  child !  The  whole  family  loved  animals 
and  each  had  one  or  more  pets.  When  a  kid  was  to  be 
killed,  both  mother  and  daughter  wept ;  the  mother 
every  day  fed  from  her  window  Henrik's  pony;  the 
daughter  had  a  favorite  cat  which  followed  her  every- 
where. The  bellwether  helped  himself  undismayed  to 
the  moss  roses,  carefully  cherished  by  both  mother  and 
daughter  in  anticipation  of  visitors  from  Christiania. 
The  billygoat  solemnly  stalked  through  the  hall  into 
the  dining-room  and  broke  the  severe  decorum  of  the 
meals.  The  occupations  of  a  big  household  also  proved 
Interesting  to  a  little  girl.  There  were  bakings,  brew- 
ings, weaving,  spinning,  conserving,  as  well  as  killing  of 
the  fat  of  the  land.  Everywhere  was  she  present  as 
attentive  spectator. 

But  the  best  of  all  was  the  outdoor  life — an  incessant 
sporting  in  the  open  air.  "Fortunately,"  says  she, 
"neither  of  our  parents  had  any  of  that  untimely  anxi- 
ety with  which  some  mothers  think  to  protect  a  child, 
while  instead  of  preventing  dangers,  they  invite  them 
and  make  the  child  defenseless  against  them.  To  us 
was  given  every  opportunity  to  become  practiced  and 

[74] 


Camilla  Collett 


hardened."  And  they  made  good  use  of  their  oppor- 
tunity. The  place  was  full  of  steeps,  ravines,  dams  and 
rivers.  They  walked  the  railing  of  the  bridges,  they 
jumped  through  a  whole  story  down  on  an  armful  of 
hay  not  larger  than  a  man  might  carry  into  a  manger. 
How  many  times  they  plumped  into  the  river  and 
saved  themselves  by  clutching  the  weeds,  she  cannot 
recollect.  Their  most  dangerous  amusement  was  to  go 
exactly  to  the  point  beyond  which  the  current  catches 
the  boat  and  hurls  it  toward  the  cataracts.  We  are 
but  too  willing  to  believe  that  they  became  adroit  and 
hard}'^  and  accustomed  to  enduring  pain.  Here  is  an 
instance.  When  nine  3^ears  of  age  she  sledged  with  her 
three-year  old  brother  in  her  lap  on  an  ice-covered  road 
through  a  long  winding  valley.  He  escaped  unhurt ; 
but  she  came  home  with  a  gash  in  her  temple  and  a 
closed  eye.  In  this  condition  she  seated  herself  at 
Lisbeth's  spinning-wheel  and  spun — as  a  joking  sur- 
prise to  the  nurse. 

This  same  Lisbeth  plays  a  beautiful  part  in  that 
secluded  paradise  of  childhood.  She  was  a  nurse  such 
as  is  seldom  found,  and  she  was  not  without  influence 
on  the  poetic  gift  developed  in  the  two  children.  Lis- 
beth was  the  daughter  of  "Sara  with  the  wooden  nose" 
whose  history  Fru  Collett  tells  so  touchingly,  Sara 
knew  all  sorts  of  fairy  stories — Norwegian,  Spanish, 
French,  Arabian.  She  seldom  told  them  to  outsiders, 
but  she  deposited  the  whole  of  her  wealth  with  her 
daughter.  In  that  mother's  humble  cabin  watergrucl 
was  the  fare  morning,  noon,  and  night.    The  only  break 

[75] 


Leaders  in  Norxvay 


in  it  was  when  there  was  no  more  to  be  had.  On  such 
evenings  when  they  had  nothing  to  eat,  the  mother  told 
fairy  stories  and  hunger  was  forgotten  in  the  romance 
of  bewitched  castles  and  the  glories  of  "The  Thousand 
and  One  Nights."  "Oh,  this  daughter  must  have  gone 
hungry  often,"  exclaims  Fru  Collett,  "for  she  knew 
many  fairy  stories.  I  need  give  no  more  impressive 
evidence  of  her  great  gift  than  that  for  ten  long  years 
she  had  the  task  of  feeding  a  brood  of  children  as 
greedy  and  eager  for  fairy  tales  as  are  the  swallow's 
young  for  worms.  And  so  marvelously  did  she  satisfy 
the  quest  that  we  always  believed  we  heard  something 
new  even  when  she  was  only  retelling  the  old." 

The  housekeeper,  too,  the  mirthful  Dorothea  Bay, 
contributed  to  their  poetic  education.  She  had  at  her 
command  almost  the  whole  range  of  songs  and  ditties, 
known  and  unknown,  old  and  new.  Among  them  were 
especially  those  of  Bellman,  at  that  time  extremely 
popular ;  and  to  the  children's  unbounded  delight,  she 
occasionally  warbled  them  forth. 

Real  instruction  was  given  by  tutors  chosen  from 
among  the  least  incapable  and  unbearable  of  their  kind. 
As  the  daughter  shared  the  brothers'  open-air  life,  so 
she  also  participated  in  their  studies.  Fortunately  the 
father  superintended  the  instruction  and  undertook 
even  to  teach  some  of  the  subjects.  Fru  Collett  says 
of  his  teaching :  "The  most  obscure  became  compre- 
hensible, the  dryest  became  interesting  and  instructive. 
We  never  felt  weariness  but  thought  we  had  just  had  a 
good   time."     The   father's   educational   venture,  how- 

[76] 


Camilla  Collet t 


ever,  was  not  restricted  to  book  learning.  He  watched 
severely  over  their  behavior  and  propriety  of  manner. 
They  loved  him  and  wooed  him  in  order  to  obtain  from 
him  a  smile,  a  mark  of  approval;  if  they  found  any- 
thing rare,  the  first  berry  or  the  first  flower,  they 
brought  it  to  him  rather  than  to  the  mother.  "Praise 
from  him  had  a  special  flavor  and  was  more  difficult  to 
obtain."  But  they  were  also  afraid  of  him.  "When 
we  heard  his  slow  ponderous  step  on  the  stairs,  play 
no  less  than  strife  ceased  and  the  room  assumed  an 
aspect  of  peace.  Mother  threw  a  glance  around  to  see 
if  perhaps  a  chair  or  table  had  changed  place.  Woe 
to  the  one  who  was  not  well-mannered  at  table,  who 
came  late  to  meals,  or  otherwise  offended  against  the 
ceremonial.  The  nursery  was  next  to  father's  room 
upstairs,  so  that  he  had  us  completely  under  his  eye. 
It  was  all  right  for  us  to  play  and  especially  sing,  of 
that  he  never  had  too  much.  But  all  noise  and  other 
discord  was  at  once  stopped  by  a  sign  from  within. 
If  to  cap  the  climax  he  showed  his  serious  face  at  the 
door,  the  room  became  as  silent  as  a  church."  On  the 
other  hand,  if  anything  was  the  matter  with  them  he 
Avas  all  concern,  sat  by  the  bedside,  sang  for  them,  and 
watched  with  them.  And  his  great  gifts  as  a  social 
leader  he  did  not  consider  too  precious  to  be  used  for 
the  pleasure  of  his  home.  Birthdays  were  made  occa- 
sions of  much  rejoicing,  and  of  the  children's  games 
he  was  the  very  soul;  especially  the  conundrums  or 
written  games  became  amusing  and  piquant  only  when 
he  took  part  in  them.      It  was  characteristic   of  this 

[77] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


home  that  complaints  or  unpleasant  remarks  or  showing 
visitors  anything  but  a  friendly  manner  were  strictly, 
though  quietly,  forbidden.  This  last  enforcement  is 
especially  significant.  It  suggests  a  time  of  pell  mell 
hospitality  when  many  wrecked  and  homeless  wander- 
ers were  drifting  wherever  they  might  find  the  least 
sign  of  welcome.  It  also  pictures  the  parsonage  as  a 
place  where  such  eccentrics  were  looked  upon  as  real 
rare-bits,  literally  dragged  to  the  house  by  that  admirer 
of  eccentrics,  Henrik  Wergeland,  himself  the  most 
eccentric  of  them  all. 

The  mother  had  by  nature  the  friendliness  and  gentle 
pity  that  make  rules  superfluous.  She  was  courtesy 
embodied  and  sought  always  with  the  greatest  leniency 
to  accommodate  herself  to  the  demands  of  country  hos- 
pitality as  then  existing,  and  put  up  as  cheerfully  as 
she  might  with  whatever  Providence  bestowed  in  the 
form  of  guests,  evil  or  good.  It  is  a  lovely  portrait 
Fru  Collett  draws  of  her  mother — a  child's  spirit,  a 
seraph's  heart,  preserving  to  the  last  a  young  girl's 
delicacy  of  feeling  and  shyness ;  light  as  a  bird  in  her 
movements  and  walk,  with  noble,  almost  royal  features. 
She  did  everything  with  incomparable  quickness ;  when 
sewing  or  knitting  it  was  impossible  to  follow  the  rapid 
movements  of  her  fingers.  She  was  domestic  and  indus- 
trious ;  whether  she  was  practical  in  the  sense  of  having 
something  besides  knowledge  of  details,  the  daughter 
dares  not  say,  but  it  was  always  good  to  be  near  her. 


[78] 


Camilla  Collet  f 


II 

The  brothers  and  a  cousin  who  was  educated  with 
them  left  after  a  time  for  the  capital  to  enter  school. 
Camilla  saw  them  now  only  in  vacation,  and  regular 
schooling  for  her  ceased.  One  or  two  studies  she  still 
pursued  under  her  father's  direction.  But  alone  she 
read  much  more.  She  had  a  passion  for  reading  and 
plenty  of  opportunity  to  satisfy  it.  Besides  this  pleas- 
ure, she  had  the  delight  of  free  roaming  in  the  woods. 
For  half  a  day  at  a  time  she  was  often  there  with  only 
Nature  to  bear  her  company.  "It  was  then  that  I 
became  a  poet,"  says  George  Sand,  speaking  of  her 
lonely  childhood  and  early  youth  in  the  woods  and 
fields.  It  was  likewise  with  Fru  Collett.  The  intro- 
spective trait  in  her  character  as  well  as  her  sympa- 
thetic identification  of  herself  with  the  moods  of  Nature 
were  active  then,  and  were  joined  with  the  capacity — 
so  fatal  to  one's  happiness — of  retaining  and  brooding 
over  past  impressions  and  feelings.  "Of  the  solitude," 
she  says,  "which  reigned  in  these  valleys  and  along  the 
deep  winding  river,  one  can  now  form  no  idea.  What 
thoughts,  plans,  dreams,  have  these  valleys  not  given 
birth  to !"  And  she  remembers  what  indescribable  sad- 
ness overcame  her  "especially  during  the  long  Sunday 
afternoons  when  spring  was  breaking  forth  with  sun- 
shine and  ice-cold  wind,  when  the  colt's-foot  sprouted 
in  the  clay  and  the  birches  bled  from  the  wounds  we 
inflicted  on  them." 

Meanwhile  the  thoughtful  teacher,  her  father,  made 
up   his   mind   that    regular    instruction    together   with 

[79] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


girls  of  her  own  age  might  be  helpful  to  his  daughter, 
and  from  her  fourteenth  year  to  her  completed  six- 
teenth she  had  to  pass  through  the  "purgatory  of  the 
boarding  school."  With  the  exception  of  a  little  book- 
learning,  which  she  had  absorbed  in  direct  ratio  to  her 
liking  for  those  who  taught  it,  she  came  out  of  school 
as  wise  as  she  went  in — just  as  shy,  confused,  and 
unsettled;  unfit  to  begin  life  as  it  was,  she  says  herself. 
But  she  concedes  one  thing — she  took  away  with  her  a 
treasure  of  happy  impressions  which  she  could  never 
be  wholly  deprived  of.  She  had  there  met  people  so 
excellent,  of  their  kind  so  perfect,  that  the  mere  memory 
had  restorative  power  when  she  was  near  losing  faith 
in  humanity,  and  proved  a  remedy  against  the  dire 
conception  later  in  vogue  of  the  human  soul  as  a  cess- 
pool of  sin  and  iniquity. 

When  she  returned,  her  father,  after  careful  prepa- 
rations, confirmed  her.  And  then  began  what  she  has 
so  many  times  called  her  "long  youth."  One  thing  is 
at  once  evident.  The  bold,  brave,  gay  outdoor  life 
with  the  boys  was  over.  She  who  so  many  times  had 
risked  her  life  together  with  them,  who  burned  to  do 
something,  now  sat  by  the  pond  and  watched  her  broth- 
ers skate,  suffering  the  tortures  of  Tantalus  from  desire 
to  join,  but  could  not.  Was  she  lame  or  injured.'' 
Not  at  all.  She  merely  did  not  dare.  She  had  become 
subject  to  the  stern  law  of  womanliness.  Her  mother, 
now  that  she  was  a  young  girl,  feared  that  she  should 
make  herself  conspicuous  (on  a  pond  in  the  country!) 
and  was  strongly  upheld  by   a   sister.      A  grandaunt 

[80] 


Camilla  Collet t 


had  once  said,  "The  woman  who  is  least  spoken  of  is 
always  the  best,"  and  this  word  passed  down  the 
generations  as  a  family  motto.  Camilla  Wergeland  her- 
self took  the  warning  so  to  heart  that  not  even  "the 
most  rigorous  English  society  rules,  v/hich  can  boast 
of  having  ushered  prudery  into  the  world,  could  find 
anything  to  object  to."  The  result  was  that  "from 
being  a  lively  child  she  became  as  silent  and  reserved 
a  young  girl  as  ever  bored  herself  and  others  by  play- 
ing the  sphinx."  During  her  "long  youth"  she  moved 
among  an  army  of  "don'ts"  as  if  in  a  dance  upon  eggs. 
She  had  also  another  passion — to  act.  It  was  indeed 
innate  in  her.  It  drew  nourishment  from  the  very 
sound  of  lier  name,  from  memories  of  her  childhood, 
from  everything  connected  with  Christiansand,  from 
the  mother's  own  youth.  But  her  theatrical  propen- 
sities met  no  encouragement.  In  her  book  called  The 
Long  Nights  she  says  (Ninth  Night),  "Yes,  me  too 
the  tragic  muse  kissed  when  I  lay  in  the  cradle,  and 
she  loved  me  and  willed  me  a  considerable  legacy.  I 
can  tell  you  this,  my  listeners,  with  the  same  proud 
rich  man's  sensation  that  a  beggarly  fellow  has  in 
speaking  of  the  inheritance  he  surely  once  owned  but 
lost  in  a  lawsuit.  ...  I  lost  my  lawsuit,  I  lost 
it  before  the  narrow-minded  barrier  called  'family  con- 
sideration,' where  many  consecrated  artist  souls  have 
lost  their  case.  I  lost  the  legacy  of  my  muse,  but  her 
kiss  burned  long,  long  upon  my  forehead,  and  at  times 
I  feel  it  still.     ...     I  still  acknowledge  this  art  to 


[81] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


be  the  form  in  which  my  strongest  individual  life  would 
most  naturally  have  found  its  expression." 

Why  did  she  submit?  The  mother's  authority  alone 
could  not  decide  her.  She  submitted  because  times 
were  different  then,  and  because  at  the  present  stage 
of  her  development  these  demands  of  propriety  and 
heroic  self-sacrifice  met  a  responsive  chord  in  herself. 
But  the  deepest  cause  was  after  all  the  shyness  and 
timidity  which  solitude  had  produced  in  her.  To  oppose 
prejudices  did  not  come  to  her  mind.  She  did  not 
even  plead  her  cause  but  without  a  sound  allowed  her- 
self to  be  "throttled."  If  she  had  been  intrepid,  if  she 
had  skated,  continued  the  jolly  free  life  with  her 
brothers,   if  she   had   followed   the  promptings   of  her 

muse  and  become  an  actress — "If  only  she  had 

if  only  she  had  not "      Such   are  the  regrets 

that  surrounded  the  fate  of  the  young  girl  in  The 
Daughters  of  the  Country  Magistrate. 

But  if  she  had,  Fru  Collett  would  not  have  been  what 
she  was.  Her  character  would  not  have  remained  so 
shy  and  sensitive,  so  crystal  clear,  her  feeling  for  the 
oppressed  would  not  have  been  so  sympathetic,  so  quick 
to  detect  wrong;  and  her  struggle  would  not  have  been 
so  powerful  as  it  came  to  be  when  under  long  pressure 
it  had  developed  far  into  the  very  depths  of  her  being. 
Nor  would  her  awakening  have  been  so  complete. 


[82] 


Camilla  Wergeland 


Camilla  Colletf 


III 

Her  horizon,  however,  was  not  confined  to  Eidsvold. 
The  city,  that  is  Christiania,  was  the  object  of  her 
desire.  "The  city,  that  was  hfe,  that  was  the  world,  that 
was  fate."  But  the  city  was  far  away — then.  The 
journey  was  twelve  Norwegian  miles  (some  seventy 
English)  if  not  more;  the  road  was  stony  and  hilly 
where  it  was  not  bottomless  sand.  The  logdrivers  with 
their  rows  of  sledges  blocked  the  passage  for  travelers 
and  by  their  roars  of  "half  Avay"  drove  them  nearly 
or  wholly  into  the  ditch.  The  relay  stations  were 
something  dreadful,  yet  if  the  carriage  broke  down,  as 
often  happened  "on  the  eighth  hill,"  one  might  be  com- 
pelled to  accept  with  thankfulness  a  lodging  for  the 
night.  Nevertheless  in  later  years  the  memory  of  these 
first  trips  to  the  city  seemed  "bright  and  fair."  They 
became  yearly  visits  and  began  when  she  was  between 
sixteen  and  seventeen  years   old. 

It  must  be  counted  as  evidence  of  Fru  Collett's  tact 
and  taste  that  she  hardly  ever  spoke  of  her  own 
appearance,  still  less  of  her  positive  personal  beauty. 
And  yet  this  beauty  certainly  played  a  great  part  in 
her  life,  unconsciously  to  herself  determining  her 
demands  and  expectations.  But  this  silence  is  retrieved 
by  what  others  have  told  about  her.  The  rumor  of  her 
exquisite  beauty  still  hovers  around  her  name  like  a 
golden  cloud.  "Tlie  lightsome  elf  of  sixteen  years 
fostered  in  the  deep  valleys"  is  one  com- 
ment.    "To   see  her   enter   a  ballroom  was   something 

[83] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


quite  unusual."  "She  seemed  like  a  revelation  such  as 
nature  sometimes  offers  us,  the  airy  mist  of  morning 
gliding  along  a  mountain  side,  or  moonlight  delicately 
playing  on  the  water."  Thus  opinions  all  agree  in 
giving  an  impression  of  something  rare,  not  wholly  of 
this  world. 

In  the  city  Camilla  Wergeland  met  the  poet  Wel- 
haven,  and  with  him  passed  through  what  she  called 
"the  dizzy  dream  of  youth."  Fru  Collett  has  several 
times  written  of  Welhaven,  but  in  a  wholly  dispassion- 
ate, objective  way.  That  she  knew  him  personally,  that 
she  stood  close  to  him,  is  not  even  hinted — an  attitude 
characteristic  of  her  and  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived. 
But  it  has  been  supposed  that  below  the  veil  of  poetry 
Welhaven's  image  may  be  found  in  her  writings ;  as 
in  the  beautiful  passage  in  The  Long  Nights  where  the 
description  of  nature's  mood  leads  up  to  and  emphasizes 
the  incident  of  the  little  pink  letter  which  when  she  had 
read  it  and  it  had  slipped  down  on  the  sand,  looked  as 
innocent  as  a  petal  fallen  with  others  from  the  bloom- 
ing apple  tree.  "And  yet  it  had  been  weighty  enough 
to  crush  a  hope  for  life."  The  powerful  and  touching 
poem.  Before  the  Gates  of  Death,  seems  to  have  been 
an  outburst  beyond  control;  none  the  less  so  because  the 
confession  suddenly  breaks  off,  scaled  with  eternal 
muteness. 

When  the  two  first  met,  each  made  a  deep  impression 
on  the  other.  In  a  poem  Welhaven  says  of  her,  "Most 
plain,  though  least  comprehended,  was  her  noble  yet 
simple  sway  of  souls.  She  stood  with  an  invisible  crown 
amid  this  festive  throng,  for  on  her  alone  rested  the 


Welhaven 


Camilla  Collet f 


lustre  of  pure  and  sweet  womanhood."  The  homage 
of  the  poem  he  strengthened  by  personal  homage  and 
found  willing  assistants  among  her  friends.  Camilla 
Wergeland,  however,  was  so  retiring,  so  unapproach- 
able, that  it  was  difficult  to  bring  about  any  closer 
acquaintance.  The  very  attraction  she  felt  made  her 
avoid  him. 

During  these  years  (the  thirties)  the  strife  between 
Henrik  Wergeland  and  Welhaven,  half  political  and 
half  literary,  was  very  bitter  indeed,  and  their  adher- 
ents shared  their  antagonism.  To  some  of  them  a  war 
on  paper  was  not  sufficient.  Welhaven,  as  the  one  who 
represented  the  opposition  to  the  commoners,  suffered 
most.  Stones  were  hurled  after  him  in  the  streets.  A 
man  who  looked  like  him  was  one  evening  assailed  and 
brutally  beaten.  Camilla  Wergeland's  whole  disposi- 
tion drew  her  to  Welhaven's  side ;  it  would  not  have 
been  necessary  for  her  first  to  entertain  any  personal 
interest  in  him.  That  he  was  persecuted  by  her  broth- 
er's adherents  and,  as  it  were,  in  his  name,  could  only 
increase  her  anger  and  pain.  She  openly  expressed 
her  indignation  at  the  treatment  Welhaven  underwent, 
and  ohe  and  her  friend  Emilie  Diriks  named  him  Saint 
Sebastian.  He  heard  of  this  and  wrote  a  reverential 
letter  wherein  the  pleasure  of  addressing  her  and  know- 
ing that  she  understood  him  quivered  beneath  the 
pedantic  form.  He  disarmed  and  mollified  lier  surprise 
at  so  strange  a  step  by  presupposing  that  it  must  be 
surprising  and  accepted  the  name  with  which  she  had 
so  flattered  him.      Thus   the  ice  was  broken,  at  least 

[85] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


in  part,  and  they  entered  mto  a  more  natural  relation. 
They  could  now  speak  "gently  and  calmly"  to  each 
other  and  enjoy  their  "souls'  harmony."  The  corres- 
pondence was  continued,  the  acquaintance  progressed 
into  a  delicate  secret  understanding,  a  relation  without 
name  or  aim,  on  a  dizzy  verge  between  love  and  friend- 
ship, to  which  they  tried  to  give  firmness  by  a  brother 
and  sister  relation.  Through  poems  and  letters  it  is 
possible  to  follow  the  stages.  They  were  together 
under  the  lindentree  "Avhile  the  lark  sang  in  the  cloud- 
less sky  of  the  beating  of  their  hearts."  She  played  for 
him  and  on  "the  gently  soaring  tones  their  hearts 
met."  But  even  now  the  m.ood  was  sadness,  they  were 
"rocked  in  the  lap  of  pensiveness"  and  felt  "with  name- 
less trem.bling  that  the  first  bloom  of  tenderness  was  to 
waste  away  in  brooding  regret." 

Why  this  contradiction,  grief,  and  doubt  .f*  Why  could 
a  young  man  not  hold  and  bind  to  himself  a  heart  that 
was  his.P  Was  it  his  complete  lack  of  worldly  position 
and  prospects?  Was  it  his  antagonism  to  her  brother 
which  after  all  brought  discord.''  Or  was  it  lack  of 
courage  on  his  part — a  thing  not  uncommon — lack  of 
courage  to  live  up  to  his  choice, — or  possibly  courage 
of  another  kind.''  Did  he  need  to  be  cheered,  to  be  met 
on  the  way,  as  she  with  her  reserved  nature  could  not 
meet  him.^  "Strangely  and  mightily  was  I  drawn  to 
you  as  to  something  far  off  and  mysterious,"  he  says 
in  a  letter  many  years  later,  "and  you  were  always 
remote,  on  flight,  absent,  even  when  present  and  despite 
the  harmony  of  our  souls."     Were  they  both  too  much 

[86] 


Camilla  Collett 


alike,  too  shy,  too  cool,  to  melt  thoroughly  together? 
Their  correspondence  seems  to  indicate  this.  One  who 
knew  both  of  them  well  declared,  "Welhaven  was  him- 
self embarrassed  and  timid  in  spite  of  his  challenging 
manner.  He  needed  that  one  should  meet  him  half 
way.  Camilla  was  always  shy,  always  retiring.  Ida 
Kjerulf  came  and  gave  him  the  look  which  is  at  once 
tender  and  certain." 

Years  afterwards  (1876)  Fru  Collett  wrote  an  article 
relative  to  Ibsen's  Comedy  of  Love  which  had  just 
been  played  in  Christiania.  The  article  is  very  objec- 
tive in  tone,  treats  only  of  Ibsen's  play,  but  as  the 
story  of  Welhaven  and  Camilla  Wergeland  was  scarcely 
absent  from  Ibsen's  thought,  so  Fru  Collett's  remarks 
on  the  play  unconsciously  reveal  her  own  feelings 
and  experiences.  In  the  light — one  might  say  in 
the  shelter — of  Ibsen's  play  Fru  Collett  sees  her  own 
youth  as  such  a  comedy  of  love ;  and  although  she 
does  not  betray  herself  even  by  a  flutter  of  the  eye- 
lids, it  is  from  the  judgment-seat  of  her  own  practical 
wisdom  that  she  passes  sentence  on  the  relation  of 
which  Ibsen's  play  treats.  She  says,  "We  must  all 
agree  that  sympathy  of  souls,  a  more  ideal  view  of 
life  entertained  by  both  partners,  is  what  makes  a  mar- 
riage, as  Ibsen  implies,  a  union  in  truth."  But  she 
shows  how  Ibsen's  satire  on  soulless  marriage  misses 
its  aim  and  liits  all  marriage,  the  institution  as  such; 
"otherwise  marriage  would  be  sanctioned  by  the  union 
of  the  two  lovers  Svanhild  and  Falk.  But  although 
in  them  the  ideal  seems  to  be  reached  and  nothing  from 

[87] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


outside  prevents  the  union,  they  separate  of  their  own 
free  will.  We  say  although — should  we  say  because 
the  conditions  arc  ideal,  they  make  their  escape?  That 
is  Ibsen's  secret."  She  goes  on  to  describe  the  way 
relations  such  as  Falk's  to  Svanhild  end  in  our  society. 
"When  these  falcons  (Falk  means  falcon)  have  played 
idealist  for  awhile  with  their  victims,  they  grow  weary 
of  the  game  and  let  the  half  plucked  dove  lie,  a  prey  to 
grief  or  to  some  chance  rescuer  not  at  all  of  the  ideal 
kind."  And  what  if  instead  of  dove  we  put  the  word 
woman  .^  "Her  freshness  of  heart  is  nipped  in  the  bud, 
her  capacity  for  happiness  sadly  reduced."  Falk's 
refrain : 

"I  broke  the  flower,  little  it  matters 
Who  gets  the  dead  remains," 
is  to  Fru  Collett  the  chief  thing  in  the  play.     In  other 
words,  pained  irony  is  the  feeling  she  expresses  at  hav- 
ing allowed  herself  to  be  dazzled  and  blinded  by  the  game 
of  ideal  sentiment.    Unexpected,  quick  as  the  stroke  of  a 
whip    follows    the   closing    sentence    of   the   keen   little 
article.      "Why    do    Falk   and    Svanhild   so   heroically 
abstain   from   marry ing.^^      I   shall  whisper   it   in   your 
ear,  reader,  but  do  not  betray  me.      Because 
they   loved  each   other     .      .      .     never!" 

Again,  many  years  later  (1887)  in  a  preface  relating 
to  that  irrevocable  epoch  in  life  when  one  faces  one's 
either — or,  she  says,  "Quietly,  almost  bereft  of  will 
power,  did  she  let  life  and  happiness  pass  by,  dared 
not  grasp,  dared  not  lay  hold  of  either.  And  life  and 
happiness   must  be  grasped,  must  be  held  fast;  they 

[88] 


Camilla  Collett 


beckon  merely  and  disappear."  Thus  she  saw  this 
event  differently  according  to  her  mood.  At  times  it 
seemed  to  her  as  if  he  had  burned  up  her  youth  in 
incense  before  himself.  At  other  times  she  saw  the  whole 
matter  as  a  calamity  the  cause  of  which  lay  as  much 
in  her  as  in  him.  And  at  last — this  is  what  her  intimate 
friends  say — the  bitterness  went  away,  she  became 
reconciled  and  there  remained  only  the  proud  memory 
of  a  glorious  youth. 

IV 

As  everybody  knows,  the  poetic  sorrow  which  Wel-- 
haven  had  infused  into  his  relation  to  Camilla  Werge 
land  became  his  in  fullest  measure  in  his  relation  to 
Ida  Kjerulf.  Her  parents  strenuously  opposed  their 
union,  and  it  was  only  after  several  years  of  suffering 
and  when  Ida  Kjerulf  was  doomed  by  consumption  that 
Wclhaven  was  allowed  to  come  freely  and  see  her.  She 
died  in  September,  184<0.  This  grief  brought  to  Wel- 
haven's  poems  that  tone  which  makes  him  the  poet  of 
those  who  know  sorrow.  The  one  who  pitied  him  most 
sincerely  and  deeply  and  who  understood  his  woe  and 
the  effect  of  it  on  his  character — while  others  took 
offence  at  his  manner  of  expressing  his  bereavement — 
was  Camilla  Wergeland.  Not  that  her  sympathy  ever 
reached  him ;  it  was  felt  only  by  those  who  presumed 
to  be  his  critics. 

Meanwhile  Camilla  Wergeland  had  found  a  knight, 
a  rescuer,  far  superior  to  Gulstad  in  the  Comedy  of 
Love  and  even  to   the   splendid   Dean   in   The  Magis- 

[89] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


trate's  Daughters.  Jonas  Collett  belonged  to  one  of 
the  oldest  and  best  families  in  Christiania.  Of  him  it 
is  rightly  said  that  he  needed  no  dubbing  to  be  a  noble- 
man. Prominent  as  a  jurist,  he  was  also  a  keen  student 
and  critic  of  literature  and  as  such  was  highly  regarded 
by  his  contemporaries.  In  many  places  in  her  works 
Fru  Collett  has  made  touching  and  grateful  mention 
of  him.  Some  of  her  remarks  show  how  downcast  she 
felt  after  her  heart's  "mortal  agony"  with  which  her 
long  youth  ended,  "He  raised  the  half  perishing  one," 
she  says,  "and  placed  her  by  his  side.  He  inquired 
lovingly  into  her  whole  state  and  told  her  there  was 
yet  much  to  be  saved.  Yea,  it  was  he  who  gave  the 
oppressed  courage,  who  freed  her  mind  and  gave  her 
back  speech,  he  it  was  who  made  a  true  human  being 
of  her."  From  the  fantastically  disguised  but  no  doubt 
genuine  correspondence  in  Tlie  Long  Alights  (between 
Ernest  and  Helen),  it  is  evident  that  for  a  long  while 
she  resisted.  She  considered  herself  too  old — through 
with  life.  But  Collett  was  not  afraid.  He  was  a  man 
who  "felt  able  to  bear  even  the  biggest  burden  on  earth, 
a  lonely,  proud,  wounded  heart,"  and  able  to  "dispel 
the  sorcery  under  which  the  princess  of  his  heart  had 
been  pining."  And  she  gave  in  and  bound  herself  to 
him. 

While  they  were  engaged,  Collett  on  a  public  stipend 
made  a  trip  to  Italy.  His  letters  to  her  (printed  in 
Ydale  in  1851)  can  be  read  with  great  interest,  writ- 
ten as  they  were  by  one  before  whose  cultured  taste 
and  refined  appreciation  Italy  revealed  her  treasures, 

[90] 


Fru  Collett  about  I84I 


Camilla  Collett 


and  addressed  to  the  one  to  whom  he  offered  only  his 
best.  Thus  indirectly  she  came  to  share  in  the  jour- 
ney. After  his  return  and  his  appointment  as  lecturer 
on  jurisprudence,  they  were  married,  July  14,  1841. 
On  her  marriage  she  entered  that  next  stage  in  her 
development  which  she  calls  "the  ordeal  of  practical 
life." 

Jorgen  Moe,  in  his  obituary  on  Collett,  made  charm- 
ing mention  of  the  hospitality  of  their  home.  "The 
circle  that  frequented  it  was  not  large,"  he  says,  "but 
those  who  entered  it  enjoyed  most  refreshing  hours, 
strengthening  to  the  spirit."  He  praises  the  clearness 
characteristic  of  Collett's  conversation  and  his  great 
charm.  "But  to  be  sure,"  he  adds,  "Collett  was  one 
of  the  few  who  in  his  home  could  speak  of  the  highest 
and  best  with  certainty  of  being  understood" — a  hand- 
some compliment  to  the  wife;  and  even  in  this  discreet 
form  extraordinary  at  a  time  when  it  was  almost 
chivalrous  to  keep  women  out  of  conversation,  not  to 
mention  print.  Asbjornsen*  also,  the  other  great 
leader  in  the  new  national  interest  in  the  native  folk 
poetry,  came  to  Collett's. 

It  is  almost  imperative  to  have  been  in  touch  with 
people  of  that  time  to  understand  the  enthusiasm  which 
greeted  that  awakening  of  the  nation  to  the  value  of 
its  own  poetical  lore ;  to  realize  how  many  helped,  how 
much  individual  initiative,  independence,  and  spontane- 

*Jorgen  Moe  and  Asbjornsen  published  the  first  extensive 
collection  of  Norse  fairy  talcs  and  folk  stories.  They  are  to 
Norway  what  Hans  Christian  Anderson  is  to  Denmark.  See  Note 
on  Welhaven,  j).   103. — Eo. 

[91] 


Leaders  in  Norxeay 


ous  effort  were  displayed.  Fru  Collett — who  sat  there 
with  her  treasure  of  fairy  stories  all  prepared,  to  whom 
the  "elfins  of  the  woods  had  whispered  the  wonderful" 
— naturally  became  one  of  the  first  to  participate. 
Asbjornsen  found  in  her  both  a  collaborator  and  a 
source.  His  feuilleton  Bird  Song  and  Fairy  Blood, 
published  in  The  Constitutional  in  1843,  he  says  was 
the  first  thing  that  awakened  the  interest  she  after- 
wards showed  in  his  writings.  To  and  for  Asbjornsen 
the  next  year  she  wrote  By  the  Drake  River.  There 
she  introduces  the  best  teller  of  stories  the  parish  could 
produce,  the  excellent  nurse  Lisbeth,  and  makes  her 
tell  him  her  best  story- — The  Story  of  the  Desert  Prin- 
cess, the  Norse  version  of  the  Greek  Psyche  legend. 
And  Asbjornsen  met  Anna  Maria  (as  he  called  Lisbeth) 
and  got  from  her  a  number  of  tales  and  fairy  stories, 
and  was  besides  referred  to  Sexton  Peter  at  Eidsvold 
Church  as  a  veritable  treasure  trove  for  such  matters. 
But  Sexton  Peter — who  should  know  his  situation  and 
the  locality  better  than  Fru  Collett?  Hence  she  wrote 
for  Asbjornsen  the  greater  part  of  the  Introduction 
to  The  Sexton's  Tales,  and  also  the  opening  sentences 
of  From  Mountain  and  Dairy  Farm,  which  are  also 
laid  at  Eidsvold. 

All  this  assistance  was  at  first  at  Collett's  express 
desire  kept  perfectly  secret,  the  chief  reason  being  Fru 
Collett's  own  shrinking  from  publicity;  and  it  was 
never  mentioned  by  her.  Meanwhile  Collett,  whether 
or  not  with  conscious  intention  is  hard  to  say,  men- 
tally  prepared   her   to    come    forward    as    an    author. 

[92] 


Camilla  Colletf 


The  next  step  was  to  do  it  practically.  She  tells  us 
that  Collett,  aside  from  his  special  line,  had  very  little 
time  to  read.  Hence  he  appointed  her  to  select  what 
was  worth  while  in  the  literary  productions  of  the  day 
and  report  on  them.  She  was  not  to  read  to  him,  but  to 
tell  him  from  what  she  had  read.  In  this  way  on  prome- 
nades back  and  forth  on  the  floor  in  the  evenings  a 
new  novel  by  Gutzkow  or  Sternberg  was  in  the  briefest 
possible  fashion  appropriated,  sifted,  and  discussed. 
She  was  proud  of  this  new  position.  And  once  when  she 
was  at  Eidsvold  on  a  summer  visit,  he  wrote  her  that 
Munch  had  bcsjgcd  a  feuilleton  of  him — would  she  not 
please  write  it.''  At  first  he  met  energetic  protest;  then 
she  did  it  by  taking  a  description  he  had  sent  her  of  a 
day  at  Eidsvold,  continuing  and  completing  it.  The 
fusion  was  perfect.  Afterward  some  lesser  pieces  came, 
The  Manor  in  At  Home  and  Abroad  (1847),  and 
An  Encounter  (printed  in  Ydale,  1851).  Both  were 
laid  at  Eidsvold,  and  both  appeared  anonymously ; — an 
anonymity  "sealed  with  seven  seals,"  which,  however, 
did  not  mislead  anyone.  In  the  same  Ydale  appeared 
Collett's  letters  from  Rome.  Thus  husband  and  wife 
appeared  together,  for  the  first  and  also  for  the  last 
time. 

During  the  ten  years  of  Fru  Collett's  marriage, 
death  had  several  times  broken  into  her  circle.  In  1843 
her  mother  died.  Days  of  gloom  hard  to  bear  had  come 
to  the  parsonage.  Her  father  had  not  been  considered 
in  the  appointment  of  a  new  bishop  for  Christiansand, 
and  the  hope  of  the  parents  of  ending  their  da3's  in  the 

[95] 


Leaders  in  Norioay 


dear  old  place  came  thus  to  naught.  After  this  dis- 
appointment the  mother  faded  away  into  death  almost 
without  illness.  Two  years  afterwards  came  the  close 
of  Henrik  Wergeland's  short  life,  and  in  1848  her  father 
passed  away.  But  in  1851  came  the  great  blow.  Col- 
lett  died.  He  had  never  been  so  strong  as  might  be 
desired,  yet  death  came  unexpectedly  after  a  short  ill- 
ness. In  TJie  Long  Nights  we  are  told,  "There  was 
one  who  would  not  believe  it,  who  passed  the  night 
brooding  over  whether  it  was  really  true ;  and  this 
solitary  one — you  know  who  it  was.  Two  alone  on  an 
island  in  the  great  empty  sea — one  is  left  behind;  how 
is  it  possible  to  understand  such  a  thing.'"' 

When  Collett  died,  it  seemed  as  if  her  first  timid  steps 
on  the  path  of  literary  endeavor  were  to  be  also  the 
last.  "It  was  as  if  I  could  not  be  anything  alone," 
she  helplessly  exclaims.  But  in  fact  she  found  her  salva- 
tion  in  continuing  on  the  road  where  he  had  guided  her. 
She  now  began  The  Daughters  of  the  County  Magis- 
trate, and  completed  the  first  part  in  1853,  the  second 
in  1855.  The  sensation  caused  by  the  book  is  a  matter 
of  common  knowledge.  "How  well  one  knew  it  all,  and 
yet  how  fresh  and  kindling  the  idea !  Who  can  ever 
forget  it.'"'  says  Fru  Aubert.  The  author  showed  a 
first  hand  knowledge  of  the  situation  treated,  the  per- 
sons were  drawn  with  an  acute  sense  of  their  peculiari- 
ties, made  alive  and  different ;  the  conversations  were 
dramatic ;  nature  was  described  as  only  a  true  wor- 
shipper can  describe  it;  and  above  all  there  was  true 
and  deep  feeling,  never  prolix,  but  with  fine  restraint 

[94] 


Camiilla  Collet t 


seekins;  its  contrast  and  outlet  in  humor.  Such  were 
the  qualities  by  which  the  unknown  writer  held  her 
readers.  If  further  analyzed,  the  book  shows  experi- 
ence, an  eye  for  the  deeper  emotions  and  for  the  strange 
parody  that  pla3^s  havoc  with  our  lives  and  brings 
results  entirely  opposite  to  those  anticipated.  It  warns 
us  by  showing  in  a  hollow  mirror  a  contorted  image  of 
what  is  to  be  our  lot.  In  this  particular  Fru  Collett 
is  certainly  related  to  George  Eliot.  Margrethc  gives 
Cold  such  good  advice  concerning  the  young  girl  who  is 
to  be  his  choice.  "Do  not  ravish  her  love,  let  her  feeling 
ripen  of  itself.  Like  the  must,  it  needs  time  to  ferment, 
and  if  it  is  pure,  it  will  overflow  of  its  own  sweetness." 
But  this  restraining  of  his  own  emotion  in  order  that 
hers  may  freely  unfold,  brings  disaster.  The  story  of 
the  poor  old  spinster,  once  "the  prettiest  most  feted 
girl  in  all  the  parish,"  who  went  daft  from  shame 
because  she  had  confessed  her  love  to  the  man  she  loved, 
becomes  to  Sophie  such  a  hollow  mirror  wherein  she 
shuddcringly  sees  her  own  fate  parodied  (for  she  did 
not  go  daft)  ;  while  Cold's  noble  delicate  remarks  seem 
to  her  the  fiower-dccked  trap  into  which  she  falls. 

This  scene  is  with  a  great  deal  of  art  made  the  cen- 
tral point  of  the  book.  Here  the  chief  actors  show 
their  characters,  from  here  their  fate  is  worked  out  in 
logical  sequence.  People's  thouglits  Avere  especially 
occupied  with  the  tendency  of  the  novel.  "What  is  it 
she  wishes?"  the}''  said.  "Docs  she  want  tiie  ladies  to 
propose.^"  Fru  Collett  herself  says  that  she  wished 
to  reinstate  feeling  in  its  rights.     She  somewhere  calls 

[95] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


the  book  "a  cry  that  escaped  me,  my  life's  long-withheld 
despairing  cry."  The  book  was  indeed  herself,  what  she 
had  lived  through,  only  resuscitated,  risen  from  her 
soul's  depth  as  another  reality.  Hence  no  one  can 
criticize  this  work  for  shallowness,  lack  of  inventive 
power,  insufficiency  of  imaginative  transformation.  On 
the  contrary,  the  poetic  has  become  the  real  and  the 
reality  is  absorbed  in  the  poetic. 

Why  did  this  book  come  to  be,  in  a  sense,  Fru  Col- 
lett's  only  great  creative  contribution  to  our  literature.'' 
She  herself  says  she  was  not  fond  of  writing,  and  found 
no  satisfaction  in  forced  productivity.  Besides,  a  con- 
tempt for  fiction,  which  sometimes  develops  with 
maturer  years,  seems  to  have  taken  possession  of  her. 
She  says  somewhere,  "If  those  who  truly  had  lived, 
even  though  the  life  had  not  been  remarkable,  would 
with  the  courage  of  truth  tell  their  experience,  people 
would  have  reading  more  effectual  in  the  progress  of 
mankind  than  many  of  the  fables  with  which  we  are 
now  punished." 

In  accordance  with  this  view,  she  published  her  per- 
sonal and  family  memoirs  in  The  Long  Nights.  This 
book  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  memoirs  to  be  found 
in  any  literature,  and  is  written  not  only  with  intensity 
of  feeling  but  with  evident  enjoyment  as  well.  Yet  it 
seems  to  have  brought  its  author  at  the  time  only 
unpleasant  remarks  ;■ — "It  is,  of  course,  nothing  but 
lamentations,"  she  "speaks  all  the  time  herself,"  and 
more  of  that  kind.  Hence  she  nearly  lost  courage  and 
desire  to  bring  forth  anything  for  a  public  so  plainly 

[96] 


Camilla  Collett 


unappreciative.  "Ask  the  plant  wliich  never  sees  sun- 
shine why  it  does  not  have  flower  after  flower,"  she  says 
in  Last  Leaflets. 

But  a  great  talent  cannot  be  so  easily  crushed.  It 
made  a  new  opening  for  itself  in  which  the  unpleasant- 
ness of  being  exposed  to  the  gaze  of  the  public  and  the 
sufi'ering  it  cost  her  to  write  disappeared  before  the 
enthusiasm  of  serving  a  cause,  an  idea.  And  the  idea 
lay  beforehand  in  her  soul,  as  a  seed  ready  for  growth. 
"There  are  facts  in  our  existence  that  are  not  worth 
thinking  too  deeply  about,"  says  Louise  in  The  Daugh- 
ters, "perhaps  it  is  fortunate  that  so  few  do  think 
about  them.  We,  who  are  the  equals  of  men  in  the 
scale  of  living  beings,  who  are  just  as  noble,  just  as 
gifted  as  they,  and  are  unsullied  by  their  vices,  we^ 
while  we  are  the  objects  of  their  choice  and  refusal  are 
yet  valued  so  singularly  low."  On  the  whole,  Louise, 
her  fate,  her  speech,  the  entire  episode  relating  to  her 
in  its  bold  bitter  beauty,  its  terseness  and  energy,  its 
harsh  reality  (it  frightened  people  so  that  in  the  next 
edition  Fru  Collett  had  to  tone  it  down  a  bit) — this 
entire  portion  of  the  book  was  already  a  challenge  to  a 
fight  for  the  cause  of  woman. 

Life  had  prepared  Fru  Collett  for  such  a  fight.  She 
had  herself  experienced  how  unfortunate  it  is  in  youth 
to  have  only  one's  heart  to  live  on  because  one's  hands 
are  tied.  She  had  seen  great  talents  among  those  of 
her  own  age  "vegetate  within  the  family  and  die  the 
natural  death  so  likely  to  come  to  gifts  in  a  woman." 
And  she  looked  further  and  saw  that  "our  country  can- 

[97] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


not  employ  its  daughters.  A  thousand  forces  are  left 
unused,  miserably  wasted,  as  is  the  champignon,  which 
the  peasant  not  knowing  its  value  or  use  tramples 
under  foot."  She  had  observed  long  before  the  gap 
between  men's  and  women's  morals,  for  almost  every 
household  in  the  parishes  had  its  Borgia,  its  Bluebeard 
in  miniature;  and  she  had  seen  the  honorable  wives — 
the  pale,  mute,  griefworn,  degraded  wives — of  these 
scandalous  husbands.  And  even  more  deeply  impressed 
upon  her  was  the  fact  that  she  had  seen  good  natural 
abilities  in  women  restrained  till  they  were  transformed 
into  evil.  She  had  herself  lived  through  "the  greatest 
sorrow  a  human  being  can  undergo,  and  to  the  grief 
and  bereavement  was  added  the  experience  of  a  widow's 
lot  in  this  land."  For  again  she  looked  further  and  saw 
that  for  other  widows  it  was  no  different ;  that  a  woman 
was  nothing  in  herself,  did  not  exist  as  an  individual, 
as  a  member  of  society,  but  only  as  a  member  of  a 
family.  To  free  the  individual,  to  set  in  motion  the 
forces  for  good,  became  thus  Fru  Collett's  aim. 
"Emancipation,  this  watchword  of  your  scorn,"  she 
exclaims,  "means  nothing  but  the  deliverance  of  wom- 
en's good  natural  salutary  gifts ;  it  is  the  false  woman- 
liness in  them  that  emancipation  will  do  away  with  and 
will  put  the  true  womanliness  in  its  place."  Healthy 
activity  in  some  practical  or  intellectual  direction  she 
declared  would  bring  an  important  liberation.  And  such 
liberation  "will  react  upon  women's  emotional  life, 
making  it  healthier  and  stronger.  The  age  of  unhealthy 
overwrought  sentiment  will  then  be  past." 

[98] 


Fni  Colleft  in  1860 


Camilla  Collett 


The  necessity  for  the  same  moral  duty,  the  same 
responsibility  for  man  as  for  woman,  was  to  her  a  mat- 
ter of  chief  importance.  And  she  who  was  herself  so 
chaste  that  she  had  to  battle  with  her  own  sensitiveness 
in  order  to  touch  moral  questions,  gave  Mrs,  Butler's 
Voice  in  the  Desert  a  warm  and  deeply  felt  welcome. 
She  took  up  these  needed  reforms  in  legislation  as  well 
as  in  literature.  Her  polemical  Woman  in  Literature 
tore  big  rents  in  the  accepted  standards.  Especially 
the  French  legislation  and  the  French  novel  received 
the  sharp  arrows  of  her  wit  and  her  indignation.  But 
also  in  our  own  literature  she  pointed  out  the  painful 
fact  that  the  type  of  woman  had  deteriorated. 

Fru  Collett  now  always  wrote  under  her  own  name. 
The  dual  sides  of  her  nature,  vrhich  she  recognized  by 
having  "Hardie  et  Timide"  engraved  in  her  seal,  were 
no  longer  at  war.  She  was  timid  for  herself,  but  bold 
for  her  cause.  The  blows  and  adversity  resulting  from 
her  battle  she  considered  as  afflictions  undergone  for 
the  sake  of  her  cause. 

But  she  had  not  only  adversity.  She  gained  com- 
panions in  arms  as  well,  warm  faithful  friends  and  ad- 
mirers. With  bitter-sweet  humor,  she  called  herself  a 
goodwife  who  tried  to  stem  and  turn  the  tide,  and  she 
named  one  of  her  books  Against  the  Tide.  Yet  in 
time  she  found  that  the  tide  did  turn  her  way,  that  her 
cause  made  progress.  Her  joy  at  this,  at  the  opening 
of  any  new  field  to  women,  at  every  deed  accomplished, 
every  recognition  gained,  was  touching  and  never  to  be 


am 


Leaders  in  Norxvny 


forgotten  by  those  whom  she  gave  approval  and  sym- 
pathy. 

After  her  sons  had  grown  to  man's  estate  and  a  more 
than  common  stature,  Fru  Collett  traveled  a  great  deal 
and  for  the  last  thirty  years  of  her  life  had  no  estab- 
lished residence  at  home.  Her  work  drew  her  away, 
the  chilly  atmosphere  drove  her  away.  The  soothing 
quality  of  Rome,  the  enlivening  quality  of  Paris,  the 
pleasure  of  living  among  artists,  in  the  easier,  freer 
life  outside,  had  their  attractions  even  for  her.  In 
later  years,  Copenhagen,  so  refreshing  to  Norwegians, 
became  to  her  a  second  home.  There  she  most  often 
spent  the  winter.  But  longing  for  her  family,  home- 
sickness for  the  beautiful  land,  the  hard  mother  Nor- 
way, impelled  her  return.  And  thus  she  continued  to  live 
until  even  from  the  hard  mother  she  received  the  great 
recognition.  Her  long  often  gloomy  day  passed  away 
in  a  beautiful  evening  glow.  A  great  multitude  from 
all  over  the  land  paid  homage  to  her  on  her  eightieth 
birthday,  bringing  from  each  and  every  one  a  special 
expression  of  gratitude  for  the  way  she  had  awakened, 
spurred,  strengthened,  or  simply  given  joy.  Her  reform 
work  and  her  poetic  work  gathered  into  one  great  light 
which  shone  over  the  whole  land.  And  a  few  years  after, 
she  died,  at  home,  among  her  own,  as  she  had  desired. 

Fru  Collett's  importance  in  the  recent  history  of  our 
country  is  great.  Her  unusual  personality,  possessing 
something  of  the  fairy  princess,  something  of  the  saga 
woman ;  her  unique  position  in  the  centre  of  clashing 
views,    with    family    relations    and    affections    ranged 

[100] 


Camilla  Collet t 


against  intellectual  sympathies  and  educational  affini- 
ties ;  her  style,  so  elastic,  graceful,  strong  and  buoyant ; 
her  subjects  and  her  treatment  of  them  so  superior  that 
our  knowledge  of  the  country  and  the  times  would  be 
incomplete  without  her  writings ;  her  battle  as  path- 
breaker  and  pioneer  for  her  sex ; — all  these  secure  to 
her  an  eminent  rank  among  our  remarkable  personali- 
ties  and   our  greatest  authors. 

"Like  the  diamond,  she  will  preserve  her  lustre  and 
her  value." 


[101] 


NOTE  ON  WELHAVEN  AND  THE 
FOLK  POETRY 

(Translated  hy  A.  M.  W.  from  Jaeger's  History 
of  Norse  Literature) 


i 


ELHAVEN'S  hope  had  been  fulfilled, 
peace  had  settled  upon  the  country,  u 
quiet  time  had  begun,  a  time  when 
clearness  and  harmony  could  be 
enjoyed.  The  strife  of  the  thirties  no 
longer  roused  emotions  either  in  poli- 
tics or  in  literature.  The  law  of  self- 
government  within  the  communes  had 
been  put  into  operation,  the  dissatis- 
faction with  the  union  had  subsided 
after  the  nation  had  obtained  its  own 
flag,  and  the  stubborn  Catl  Johan  had  been  succeeded 
by  the  accommodating  Oscar  the  First.  For  the  pres- 
ent the  national  excitement  had  gone  down  like  water 
in  a  kettle  taken  off  the  fire.  Even  in  literature  there 
was  peace  and  happiness.  The  real  disturber  of  har- 
mony (Henrik  Wergeland)  had  retired  and  soon  was 
to  leave  the  field  forever. 

During  these  peaceful  years  a  new  element  of  literary 
life  was  discovered,  which  produced  a  movement  short 
in  time  but  great  in  importance.  It  was  the  existence 
of  a  "national"  or  folk  poetry,  a  poetry  preserved  by 
the  people  itself  as  its  own  product  and  special  prop- 
erty. Poets  previously  known  were  children  of  officials, 
brought  up  on  the  ideas  of  the  period  of  enlightenment. 
What  they  had  heard  of  the  myths  and  tales  belonging 

[102] 


Note  Gil  Welhaven  and  Folk  Poetry 

to  the  people  had  never  gone  beyond  the  nursery  or  the 
servants'  hall.  The  enlightened  parents  regarded  these 
things  with  true  eighteenth  century  indifference ; — 
they  were  but  expressions  of  superstition,  ignorance, 
and  lack  of  taste  which  an  enlightened  person  ought  to 
disregard  or  even  destroy.  Their  children,  therefore, 
never  learned  to  knoAv  the  folk-myths  thoroughly ;  and 
when  as  adults  they  became  enthusiastic  over  them, 
because  romanticism  took  such  interest  in  national 
poetry  and  national  life  in  general,  they  had  no  true  con- 
ception of  the  treasures  hidden  away  in  the  memories  of 
the  country  population.  When  Fredrika  Bremer  in 
1840  wrote  to  Henrik  Wergeland  requesting  material 
for  a  description  of  Norwegian  life  in  town  and  in 
country,  he  said  among  other  things  that  he  knew 
nothing  of  any  national  poetry  or  folklore.  He  sup- 
posed that  such  things  existed,  but  he  did  not  know 
definitely. 

The  interest  in  folklore  and  the  belief  in  its  import- 
ance for  that  poetry  which  is  art  had  begun  in  Europe 
several  generations  before.  Even  as  early  as  1765  the 
Englishman  Percy  had  published  his  "Ilcliques,"  which 
made  an  epoch ;  particularly  in  Germany,  where  Herder 
was  led  to  a  comprehensive  study  of  the  folklore  of  all 
countries  and  Burger  and  Goethe  used  the  folksong  in 
their  own  poetry.  Then  came  the  romanticists  and 
carried  the  matter  further.  All  old  German  songs  and 
tales  were  most  carefully  collected  and  the  romantic 
poets  produced  both  talcs  and  songs  of  their  own 
invention.      In    Denmark    this    new    movement    became 

[103] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


important  with  Oehlenschlager.  He  worked  over  old 
Danish  ballads  and  wrote  original  new  ones ;  fairy  tales 
and  sagas  he  used  for  poetical  reproduction,  and 
Scandinavian  mythology  became  a  gold  mine  to  him. 

Norwegian  poets  whose  ideas  of  poetry  had  been 
influenced  by  this  new  departure  were  really  in  a  difficult 
and  hopeless  situation.  Those  subjects  to  which  they 
would  have  most  naturally  turned,  had  already  been 
used  by  Oehlenschlager,  and  in  their  opinion  with  such 
superior  results  that  nothing  was  left  for  them  to  do. 
The  sagas  and  the  old  mythology  were  lost  to  them, 
nothing  remained  but  the  songs  and  the  tales.  From 
them  the  revival  of  poetry  had  to  come.  (To  these 
writers  the  poetry  of  Henrik  Wergeland  had  no  value — 
it  was  not  "national:") 

First  of  all  it  was  necessary  that  the  folksongs  and 
stories  be  collected,  and  then  that  a  poet  appear  who 
should  know  how  to  use  them.  Fortunately  men  were 
found  who  did  the  collecting — Asbjornsen,  Moe,  and 
Landstad;  and  the  poet  supposed  to  have  made  the 
right  fructifying  use  of  the  spirit  embodied  in  this 
truly  national  poetry  was  Welhaven.  Asbjornsen  and 
Moe  were  peasant  bo3^s,  well  acquainted  from  childhood 
with  folklore  and  possessing  a  way  of  handling  people 
that  put  the  bashful  narrator  at  ease.  Their  field  was 
the  collecting  of  fairy  tales  and  myths.  In  1842  they 
published  their  first  volume.  Landstad's  work  was  the 
gathering  of  folksongs,  particularly  old  ballads,  and 
in  1853  he  published  a  hundred  of  them.  These  volumes 
as  a  truly  national  heirloom  were  received  with  great 

[104] 


Note  on  Welliaven  and  Folk  Poetry 

enthusiasm.  It  was  as  if  the  Norwegian  nature  and  the 
national  poetry  had  suddenly  been  for  the  first  time 
seen  to  exist.  Like  busy  bees  collectors  and  investigat- 
ors swarmed  all  over  the  fields  where  something  might 
yet  be  found.  The  musician  Lindeman  collected  national 
songs  as  sung  by  the  people.  The  Norse  national 
costumes  were  pictured  and  described,  the  old  Norse 
frame  architecture  was  studied,  and  a  society  was 
formed  to  save  what  national  monuments  had  not  yet 
been  destroyed.  The  history  of  Norway  was  also  a 
subject  of  fruitful  study ;  and  the  language  as  it 
appeared  in  the  old  sagas  and  in  the  dialects.  Even  the 
artists  began  to  paint  Norse  scenery  or  historical 
events  and  picturesque  groups  of  mountaineers  in  the 
old  houses. 

Finally  the  poets  were  taken  by  the  same  enthusiasm. 
The  most  important  and  most  interesting  literary  figure 
of  the  period  was  without  comparison  Welhaven. 
Wergeland  had  worked  for  national  education.  Wel- 
haven now  became  equally  active  for  a  new  national 
poetry.  Although  Welhaven  v/as  not  the  creator  of 
the  new  movement,  he  joined  it  so  heartily  that  in  his 
special  field — lyric  verse — he  became  the  first  and  fore- 
most, the  one  whose  production  determined  and  fructi- 
fied the  work  of  other  poets.  This  is  the  more  remark- 
able, since  Welhaven  had  been  an  established  writer 
with  his  individual  character  before  the  "national" 
movement  began  at  all.  Nevertheless,  his  participa- 
tion in  this  movement  became  the  central  force  in  his 
poetry.     What  had  preceded  was  but  an  introduction ; 

[10.'5] 


Leaders  in  Nonvay 


what  followed  was  but  a  few  harmonious  closing  chords. 
During  his  quarrel  with  Wergeland,  Welhaven's  thought 
and  feeling  had  developed  considerably.  The  poet  had 
begun  to  unfold  like  a  butterfly  in  its  cocoon.  But  the 
final  metamorphosis  had  not  come  then.  He  did  not 
see  the  subject  that  truly  inspired  him  till  he  found  these 
national  themes, — things  sympathetically  related  to  his 
innermost  nature. 

Indeed,  Welhaven's  peculiarly  sensitive  organism  felt 
with  special  force  the  appeal  of  this  folk-poetry.  Hidden 
away  like  his  own  personal  feeling,  this  poetry  had  lived 
in  the  innermost  heart  of  the  people,  and  hovered  as  an 
unknown  uncomprehended  spirit  over  the  Norwegian 
nature,  with  its  strange  mingling  of  the  enchanting  and 
the  stern.  Even  as  early  as  1840  Welhaven  confessed  to 
having  been  affected  by  this  national  spirit.  It  seemed  to 
call  to  him  "as  a  perennial  alluring  entreaty  from  moun- 
tain and  forest;  on  every  wooded  slope  he  heard  the 
suggestion  of  most  touching  immortal  melodies — the 
spirits  of  the  woods  and  fields  stormed  in  upon  him  with 
a  thousand  memories  and  lamentations."  Norway,  as 
material  for  poetry,  was  indeed  like  a  primeval  forest 
where  no  man's  foot  had  yet  stepped  and  through  which 
the  Spirit  of  the  North  whisperingly  wandered.  With 
exultant  joy  Welhaven  sav/  this  new  world  opened  to 
him  and  lost  no  time  in  taking  possession  of  it.  But 
riot  only  was  the  national  poetry  discovered, — the  Nor- 
wegian nature  too  was  appreciated ;  its  beauty,  its 
majesty,  its  unspeakable  virgin  charm,  and  its  defiant 
boldness.     And  Welhaven  was  the  first  to  characterize 


[106] 


Note  on  Welliaven  and  Folk  Poetry 

in  poetry  the  far-stretching  deep  forests,  the  narrow 
valleys  surrounded  by  high  peaks,  and  the  tremendous 
wildness  and  loneliness  of  the  highlands.  Nobody 
expressed  bettor  than  he  did  the  secret  charm  of  evening 
twilight  near  the  wooded  shore  of  a  mountain  stream, 
or  described  the  calm  coolness  of  a  spruce  forest  on  a 
hot  summer  day ;  no  one  painted  more  exquisitely  the 
enrapturing  beauty  of  a  winter  landscape,  or  the  mys- 
tical loneliness  of  the  deep  forest. 

But  there  is  one  side  of  his  poetry  which  is  particu- 
larly characteristic  of  the  period  and  which  separates 
it  from  productions  of  previous  and  later  times ;  that 
is  its  relation  to  the  folklore,  or  rather  the  folk-super- 
stition. To  Welhaven  the  huldre  (woodnymph),  the 
elves,  the  n0k  (waterspritc)  were  personifications  of 
the  moods  that  nature  called  forth — personifications 
he  used  very  often,  and  yet  which  for  him  were  artificial 
and  acquired,  not  beliefs  inherent  and  innate,  as  with 
the  people  itself.  Thus  behind  all  was  a  lack  of  vitality 
that  impaired  the  truthfulness  of  his  poetry — a  vestige 
of  a  literary  fad  that  interfered  with  the  lasting  beauty 
of  the  relation  between  nature  and  his  own  moods. 
Nature  seems  to  have  been  not  sufficiently  poetical  in 
herself,  his  aesthetic  demands  could  not  be  satisfied  with 
things  as  they  were;  he  would  perfect  them  still  more, 
make  nature  still  more  beautiful  b}'  those  reminiscences 
ox  a  past  age.  He  intended  in  the  huldre,  the  elves,  and 
the  n(^k  to  give  the  very  essence  of  nature  in  plastic 
representations ;  but  he  was  not  able  to  make  them  real 
to  the  cultured  sophisticated  minds  for  whicli  he  wrote. 

[107] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Welhaven  himself  did  not  believe  in  the  huldre.  She  was 
to  him  an  expression,  not  a  feeling ;  and  therefore  she 
remained  in  his  poetry  a  dead  sign,  interfering  with 
genuine  poetic  impressiveness.  In  spite  of  the  strong 
correspondence  between  the  beauty  of  natural  scenery 
and  Welhaven's  inner  self,  as  soon  as  he  began  to  handle 
this  machinery  of  superhuman  beings  he  lost  his  true 
bearing;  he  felt  out  of  keeping  with  the  fantastic  ele- 
ment introduced  and  his  lyric  became  cold  and  imper- 
sonal. 

Besides  these  poems  of  nature,  however,  Welhaven 
wrote  ballads  treating  of  national  events  or  local  events 
of  national  interest,  and  these  are  his  most  perfect 
works  of  art.  He  never  became  very  Norwegian  in  his 
language,  but  the  spirit  is  Norse,  if  not  the  words ;  and 
therefore,  he  is  after  all,  a  national  poet  and  will  main- 
tain his  supremacy  in  his  own  somewhat  limited  sphere. 


[108] 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  WOMAN  MOVEMENT 

IN  NORWAY 


S 


i 


A.RY  WOLLSTONECRAFT  traveled 
through  Norway  in  1796  and  said  of 
the  people:  "The  Norwegians  appear 
to  me  sensible  and  shrewd,  with  little 
scientific  knowledge  and  still  less  taste 
for  literature,  but  they  are  arriving  at 
the  epoch  which  precedes  the  develop- 
ment of  the  arts  and  sciences.  Most 
of  tlic  towns  are  seaports,  and  sea- 
||  ports  are  not  favorable  to  improve- 
ment. By  travel  the  captains  acquire 
a  little  superficial  knowledge  which  their  fixed  attention 
to  the  making  of  money  prevents  their  digesting ;  and  the 
fortune  they  thus  laboriously  gain  is  spent,  as  every- 
where in  towns  of  this  description,  in  show  and  good 
living.  They  love  their  country  but  have  not  much  pub- 
lic spirit.  Their  exertions  are  in  general  only  for  their 
families  ;  which  I  conceive  will  always  be  the  case  till  poli- 
tics, becoming  a  subject  of  discussion,  enlarges  the  heart 
by  opening  the  understanding.  The  Frencli  Revolution 
will  have  tin's  effect.  At  present  they  sing  with  great 
glee  many  republican  songs  and  seem  earnestly  to  wish 
that  the  republic  may  stand ;  yet  they  appear  very  much 
attached  to  their  prince  royal."  Half  a  generation 
after  Mary  Wollstonecraft's  visit  came  the  downfall  of 
Napoleon,  the  separation  of  Norway  from  Denmark, 
the  Norwegian  declaration  of  independence,  and  the 
constitutional    convention    followed    by    the    personal 

[109] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


union  with  SMeden ;  a  union  which  Sweden  constantly 
but  unsuccessfully  tried  to  make  a  union  in  fact.  Hand 
in  hand  with  the  persistent  struggle  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  national  integrity  went  the  struggle  for  the 
upbuilding  of  the  country  and  the  elevation  of  the 
people,  in  order  that  Norway  should  worthily  take  its 
place  among  the  freedom-loving  and  truly  independent 
countries  of  the  civilized  world.  The  prophet  who 
pointed  the  way  and  guided  the  steps  toward  this  great 
goal  and  vitalized  in  his  speeches  and  writings  the  spirit 
which  had  dictated  the  constitution  was  Henrik  Werge- 
land. 

The  foregoing  is  the  background  of  facts  on  which 
the  woman  movement  in  Norway  must  be  pictured  if  it 
is  to  be  understood  in  relation  to  the  national  life.  The 
prophet  and  leader  in  that  movement  was  the  sister  of 
Henrik  Wergeland,  Fru  Camilla  Collett.  She  became 
the  first  great  national  pioneer  in  a  world  movement  of 
which  the  present  generations  are  reaping  the  benefit. 
During  the  long  weary  years  of  her  widowhood,  Fru 
Collett  reflected  sufficiently  upon  the  lot  of  women  to 
see  how  false,  unnatural  and  degraded  was  their  posi- 
tion in  the  social  whole ;  and  from  the  fullness  of  her 
experience  she  proceeded  to  show  the  facts  in  novels  and 
essays.  There  were  others  a  little  later  than  she,  more 
radical,  such  as  Aasta  Hansteen,  philosopher  and 
propagandist,  who  sought  the  reason  for  the  contempt 
of  woman  in  the  century-old  religious  prejudice  against 
woman  as  an  inferior  being,  not  created  in  the  image  of 
God,  but  merely  in  the  image  of  man  and  hence  kept 

[110] 


Progress  of  the  Woman  Movement  in  Norway 

in  subjection  by  him.  Life  was  made  as  uncomfortable 
for  Aasta  Hansteen  as  for  Fru  Collett,  and  she  came  to 
the  United  States,  to  Boston,  where  she  stayed  six  years. 
During  her  absence,  however,  reflection  had  come  to 
her  aid  at  home,  and  when  she  returned  about  1892  she 
was  received  with  appreciation.  She  afterward  re- 
mained in  Christiania  witnessing  the  good  seed  bearing 
fruit. 

About  1875  the  women  of  the  capital  began  to 
organize.  The  first  indication  of  this  was  the  formation 
of  a  Woman's  Reading  Club,  to  which  Fru  Collett  and 
other  prominent  women  were  invited  and  which  speedily 
accumulated  a  large  library  including  papers  and  peri- 
odicals. It  is  now  one  of  the  noteworthy  sights  of  the 
capital.  Some  years  later  was  formed  the  Woman's 
Cause  Association  which  gradually  grew  to  enormous 
dimensions  and  to  have  affiliations  all  over  the  country. 
It  has  long  been  a  power  to  be  reckoned  with  both  in 
social  and  political  life.  It  was  followed  in  1885  by  a 
Woman's  Suffrage  ^Association,  the  founder  of  which 
was  Gina  Krog.  Two  years  later  Gina  Krog  established 
a  special  organ  for  women's  interests  called  New  Land. 
In  tliis  periodical,  then  monthly,  now  semi-month- 
ly, questions  of  importance  for  the  welfare  of  women 
are  discussed  with  great  ability.  This  little  paper  has 
from  the  first  worked  great  changes  in  public  opinion. 
One  of  its  best  deeds  has  been  the  connection  it  estab- 
lished with  phases  of  the  movement  in  other  countries. 
Its  editor  was  later  president  of  the  National  Council 
of  Women  and  a  member  of  the  International  Council 

[111] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


of  Women,  a  world-wide  organization  which  exercises 
a  great  and  well-merited  influence  even  upon  national 
legislatures.  She  has  repeatedly  been  a  delegate  to  the 
World's  Congresses  of  Women  held  at  Washington, 
Berlin,  Copenhagen  and  other  places.  New  Land  has 
been  the  medium  through  which  all  movements  relative 
to  women's  work  and  position  have  been  presented, — 
the  v/oman's  peace  movement,  the  prohibition  move- 
ment, the  white  slave  trade,  and  other  problems  more  or 
less  international  as  well  as  national  and  local. 

In  the  fifties  of  the  nineteenth  century  women  were 
admitted  to  positions  as  telegraph  operators  and  later 
to  the  postal  service  and  telephone  service,  all  of  which 
are  under  state  control.  As  teachers  they  have  been 
busy,  at  first  in  small  private  schools  for  girls  but  after- 
wards also  in  larger  private  schools  for  boys.  From  the 
first  both  women  and  men  have  taught  in  the  public 
schools,  women  having  charge  especially  of  the  separate 
classes  for  girls.  Their  ability  as  teachers  has  always 
been  recognized.  The  great  question  was  equal  wages  for 
equal  work.  The  advancement  of  women  to  positions 
of  government  in  the  schools  and  to  equally  prominent 
positions  in  the  other  branches  of  public  service  made  the 
question  vital.  A  petition  was  brought  to  the  postal 
department  from  women  clerks  in  the  postoffices  of  the 
larger  cities  for  increase  of  salary  on  an  equal  basis  with 
men.  It  stated  that  the  women  did  exactly  the  same 
work  as  the  men,  from  the  heaviest,  such  as  handling 
mailbags,  to  the  lightest ;  and  that  in  the  case  of  women 
who   took   care   of   registered   mail,  postal   orders   and 

[112] 


Progress  of  the  Woman  Movement  in  Norway 

other  valuable  possessions  of  the  service,  more  than  two 
hundred  thousand  crowns  a  day  passed  through  their 
hands.  Hence  their  responsibilities  were  fully  as  great 
as  those  of  the  men.  This  question  New  Land  most 
ably  advocated,  and  finally  in  1908  equal  reward  for 
equal  labor  was  conceded. 

The  heaviest  battle,  however,  was  fought  over  ques- 
tions even  more  far-reaching — the  participation  of 
women  in  the  government  of  commune  and  state. 
Woman's  comnmnal  suffrage  was  granted  as  far  back 
as  1883  but  was  vetoed  b}^  the  king.  In  1893  it  almost 
passed  the  house.  In  1901,  however,  communal  suffrage 
was  given  to  tax-paying  women,  married  or  unmarried ; 
i.  e.,  they  were  given  the  right  to  sit  in  the  communal 
council,  apportion  taxes,  look  after  the  support  for 
schools,  the  poor,  the  roads,  and  such  matters.  Tliis 
victory  merely  whetted  the  appetite  for  other  and  bet- 
ter things.  That  very  year  forty-eight  thousand  four 
hundred  and  two  women  voted,  ninety-eight  women  were 
elected  as  members  and  a  hundred  and  sixty  as  deputies. 
Four  years  later,  in  1905,  events  took  place  which  con- 
cerned women  no  less  than  men.  The  separation  from 
Sweden  occurred,  which  might  have  stirred  up  a  most 
bitter  and  bloody  war,  had  not  international  complica- 
tions prevented  it  and  calmed  the  irate  Swedish  crown 
prince.  When  the  tension  was  at  its  highest  the  minis- 
try made  an  appeal  to  the  nation  (not  merely  to  a 
party)  for  support  in  its  policy;  and  the  women,  who 
considered  themselves  as  much  concerned  as  the  men, 
demanded  to  be  given  a  voice  in  the  plebiscite  called  for 

[113] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


by  the  ministry  in  regard  to  the  separation  from  the 
Swedish  alliance  and  the  selection  of  a  Norwegian  king. 
The  ministry  in  its  announcement  of  the  result  paid 
no  attention  to  the  women's  demand  but  referred  only 
to  the  men.  Great  dissatisfaction  was  felt,  indigna- 
tion meetings  were  held  and  petitions  circulated.  Finally 
an  address  was  presented  to  the  president  of  the 
Storting  with  three  hundred  thousand  signatures,  prac- 
tically of  all  grown  Norwegian  women,  expressing  their 
unanimous  support  of  the  action  of  the  ministry.  The 
president  of  the  Storting  received  the  address  with 
grateful  recognition,  and  when  he  read  it  from  the 
presidential  chair  all  members  rose  from  their  seats.  It 
would  have  been  interesting  could  Fru  Collett  have  been 
there  that  day.  But  Aasta  Hansteen  was.  Evidently 
the  ministry  felt  that  it  had  most  unwisely  snubbed  the 
women  and  jeopardized  public  opinion  at  a  critical  mo- 
ment, for  when  the  Storting  assembled  in  1906  two  bills 
for  women's  suffrage  were  considered,  one  for  limited 
suffrage,  that  is,  for  all  women  over  twenty-five  who 
paid  tax  on  a  certain  amount  of  property;  and  the 
other  for  unlimited — suffrage  on  the  same  basis  as 
men's.  The  agitation  was  substantially  helped  by  the 
fact  that  women  of  Finland  at  that  time  were  given 
full  franchise.  Finland  had  hitherto  followed  Norway 
in  all  matters  of  politics.  The  Norwegian  Storting 
could  not  be  less  generous  than  the  Finnish  diet.  In 
great  suspense  the  outcome  was  awaited,  and  on  June 
13,  1907,  the  limited  suffrage  bill  passed  the  house. 
Some   three    hundred    thousand    were   benefited   by    it. 

[114] 


Progress  of  the  Woman  M ovement  in  Norway 

New  Land,  however,  did  not  let  it  rest  there.  Com- 
plete franchise  was  the  cry!  In  1910  the  law  was 
passed  granting  to  women  general  communal  suffrage, 
and  at  last  in  1913  by  a  unanimous  vote  of  the  Storting 
women  were  given  entirely  unrestricted  franchise. 

The  most  important  leader  in  these  final  achieve- 
ments was  Fru  Qvam.  In  an  article  on  politicians  in 
Norway  Wilhclm  Keilhan  writes  about  Fru  Qvam : 
"She  can  look  back  upon  more  victories  and  fewer 
defeats  than  almost  any  of  her  contemporaries  among 
the  men.  It  was  in  1898  that  she  appeared  as  a  leader 
in  the  woman  movement.  To  be  sure,  the  movement 
had  claimed  an  existence  for  a  decade  but  it  had  gained 
no  definite  results.  Its  organization  had  not  extended 
beyond  a  narrow  circle  of  women  in  the  metropolis  and 
it  had  not  been  able  to  wield  any  noticeable  influence  on 
public  opinion.  But  in  a  comparatively  few  years  the 
new  aggressive  movement  which  Fru  Qvam  organized 
together  with  Gina  Krog,  Hedvig  Rosing,  Aasta  Han- 
steen  and  other  well-known  women  had  spread  through- 
out the  land.  In  quite  a  remarkable  way  the  move- 
ment under  Fru  Qvam's  direction  succeeded  in  evading 
its  most  dangerous  enemy — ridicule  and  laughter. 
Possessed  of  unusual  reticence  and  rare  tact,  she 
became  a  master  as  a  lobbyist.  During  her  active  career 
she  was  called  "tlio  little  queen  of  the  corridors." 
Though  the  other  women  mentioned  gave  inA'aluable 
aid,  Fru  Qvam  made  the  movement  great,  and  by  her 
wonderful  strategic  powers  won  success  after  success 
till  full  suffrage  was  attained.     She  is  univcrsall}'  recog- 

[115] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


nized  as  one  of  the  greatest  politicians,  in  a  good  sense, 
that  Norway  has  ever  had."* 

Of  course,  there  have  come  into  existence  other 
phases  of  women's  activity  besides  the  political.  It  is 
worth  noting  that  in  1882  the  national  university  was 
opened  to  women  students  as  Avell  as  to  men  and  the 
same  year  the  first  woman  was  matriculated.  From  a 
still  earlier  date  women  had  been  doing  individual  inves- 
tigative work  under  the  auspices  of  the  university  and 
now  there  are  women  with  rank  and  title  in  the  univer- 
sity who  do  that  kind  of  work  and  publish  their  papers 
in  the  university  proceedings. 

Of  women  in  professional  life  there  are  many.  Two 
women  attorneys  are  pleading  in  the  Supreme  Court. 
In  1910  two  women  were  appointed  by  law  as  factory 
inspectors.  Female  police  exist  for  the  protection  of 
children  and  young  people  in  public  places.  Numerous 
practising  physicians  and  dentists  are  women.  We 
have  one  woman  steamship  agent  who  is  held  in  great 
repute,  and  any  number  of  tradeswomen — bookbinders, 
watchmakers,  and  others.  There  has  been  much  agita- 
tion for  maintaining  married  women  in  public  service. 
A  woman's  sanitary  union  is  actively  combating  con- 
sumption and  other  white  plagues  and  maintaining  hos- 
pitals for  unmarried  mothers  and  invalids.  Last  but 
not  least,  legalized  prostitution  is  a  thing  of  the  past 
for  the  whole  land. 

*It  may  be  of  interest  to  recall  the  fact  that  on  June  5,  1915, 
equal  suffrage  became  legal  in  Denmark. — Ed. 

[116] 


Henrik  Ibsen 


IBSEN  AND  THE  NORWEGIANS 


i 


i 


ANY  of  those  indebted  to  Ibsen  for  his 
inspiring  works  scarcely  think  to 
inquire  about  the  temper  of  the  nation 
and  the  character  of  the  country  from 
which  he  came.  Even  in  this  day  of 
travel,  little  occurs  to  some  minds  when 
Norway  is  mentioned  but  the  trite 
plirase  "land  of  the  midnight  sun." 
Yet  that  is  an  exceedingly  misleading 
expression.  For  except  in  the  far 
north,  Norway  has  summer  and  winter, 
day  and  night,  very  much  like  the  rest  of  the  world. 
Besides  this  general  indifference  and  ignorance,  the 
severity  of  Ibsen's  attacks  on  Norse  society  has 
undoubtedly  caused  some  misunderstanding  of  both  the 
author  and  the  country.  The  sources  of  this  severity 
have  not,  I  believe,  been  fully  seen  by  foreign  critics. 
Some  ha,ve  ascribed  it  to  his  lack  of  sympathy  with  the 
home  land,  to  an  alienation  almost  instinctive  and  due 
to  his  mixed  blood.  German  critics  especially  have 
reiterated  that  he  had  half  a  dozen  nationalities  in  his 
make-up.  No  wonder,  they  say,  that  he  possessed  such 
versatility,  such  cosmopolitan  breadth  of  view,  such 
tendency  toward  speculation,  and  such  puritanism  in 
his  demands  on  his  fellow-men.  He  got  them  all  from 
his  German  and  Scotch  ancestry.  But  this  reasoning 
appears  rather  strained.  For  many  others,  purely 
Norwegian  in  blood,  have  also  been  alienated  from  their 
country.    Besides,  an  intellect  of  the  highest  order  must 

[117] 


Leaders  in  Norwaij 


always  be  cosmopolitan.  Even  Henrik  Wergeland, 
staunchest  of  patriots,  felt  that  he  belonged  not  to 
Norway  alone  but  to  the  whole  world. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Ibsen  was  to  the  core  a  good 
patriot.  Mixed  blood  did  not  prevent  this.  Norse 
history  shows  that  a  complex  ancestry  and  foreign 
extraction  never  produced  traitors  to  the  national  feel- 
ing. Large  numbers  of  our  merchant  and  even  of  our 
official  classes  are  of  Dutch-German  or  Dutch-English 
descent.  Englishmen  and  Frenchmen  frequently  marry 
into  Norwegian  families,  or  Norwegians  take  German 
or  English  wives,  and  the  generation  that  follows  is 
usually  more  patriotic  than  even  the  pure-blooded 
native.  No  one  shouts  more  lustily  and  praises  more 
lovingly  the  virtues  of  the  Modern  Norway  than  they. 
Ibsen's  patriotism,  however,  was  not  like  theirs.  I  think 
he  held  the  name  of  country  still  more  sacred,  and  from 
pride  or  natural  delicacy  spoke  least  of  what  he  loved 
most.  During  all  the  years  of  "exile,"  as  he  called  it, 
he  never  lost  sight  of  events  at  home.  He  watched 
them  with  the  utmost  attention  and  solicitude.  If  he 
were  so  alienated  as  some  would  have  us  think,  why 
did  he  not  abandon  us  altogether,  become  a  citizen  of 
many  lands,  and  write  in  a  foreign  tongue.''  Instead, 
he  remained  the  faithful  son  of  a  small  country,  and 
life  in  that  country  was  the  one  subject  on  which  he 
wrote.  Who  can  blame  him  if  he  wished,  like  the  rest 
of  us,  to  enlarge  the  mental  horizon  of  his  native  land, 
and  see  it  expand  in  will  and  purpose.''  All  of  our 
poets  have  had  this  wish — Bjornson  perhaps  less  than 

[118] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


others.  Bjornson*  thought  Norway  was  pretty  good 
as  she  was,  and  thus  he  became  the  leader  of  the  ultra 
patriots.  Ibsen,  on  the  other  hand,  in  his  strong 
revulsion  against  all  that  smacked  of  self-righteousness 
and  absolutism,  used  the  probing  knife  rather  than  the 
velvet  glove.  No  doubt  he  spoke  from  the  housetops 
what  some  of  us  had  courage  only  to  whisper  to  our- 
selves ;  and  although  it  is  a  fearful  trial  to  have  the 
cat-o'-nine-tails  applied  to  one's  quivering  flesh,  and 
still  more  fearful  to  have  this  done  with  every  one  look- 
ing on  in  amazement  and  scorn,  though  too  he  seemed 
sometimes  to  cut  dangerously  near  the  seat  of  life,  yet 
we  feel  now  that  we  were  too  apprehensive.  We  see 
that  he  freed  us  from  the  greatest  of  all  evils — lethargy ; 
and  that  in  the  big  problems  before  us  of  building 
the  state  anew,  his  stern  hand  pointed  out  the  readiest 
solution. 

As  for  his  notable  tendency  toward  speculation,  this 
is  as  essentially  Norwegian  as  it  is  German.  It  was 
merely  increased  by  the  philosophic  training  that  a 
thoughtful  reader  and  independent  thinker  like  Ibsen 
inevitably  receives  from  contact  with  the  world  at 
large. 

If  then,  though  cosmopolitan  in  experience  and 
interest,  Ibsen  yet  remained  truly  Norwegian  in  his 
patriotic  spirit  and  his  philosophic  habit,  one  expects  to 
find  some  other  explanation  than  foreign  ancestry  for 
his  so-callod  puritanical  sternness.  The  real  explana- 
tion   for   tliat   unmitigated    severity,    which    as    Gosse 

*See  Appendix  II  on  Bjornson. 

[119] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


somewhere  says  "borders  on  the  tyrannical,"  is  found, 
I  am  convinced,  in  the  nature  of  the  country  where  he 
was  born  and  where  his  youth  and  early  manhood  were 
spent.  Impressions  received  then  are  never  quite  ef- 
faced in  anybody;  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that 
Norway  is  one  of  the  most  impressive,  least  forgetable 
of  countries.  Ibsen's  unflinching  idealism  expresses 
the  very  essence  of  its  character. 

One  who  has  stood  on  those  mountain  heights  and 
looked  out  over  miles  and  miles  of  more  mountains, 
top  upon  top,  lying  in  the  marvelous  coloring  of  those 
regions  and  disappearing  in  the  far  distance,  finds  cre- 
ated in  his  breast  an  inexpressible  longing,  a  yearn- 
ing and  pining  for  still  loftier  heights,  for  an  ideal 
that  seems  at  once  near  and  very  far  away.  It  beck- 
ons and  urges  him  to  approach,  to  brave  fatigue  and 
hardship  to  reach  it,  to  bathe  his  soul  in  its  glorious 
revelation — and  he  alone  can  fully  measure  the  quality 
of  the  burning  eagerness  and  determination  that  ani- 
mate Ibsen's  writings.  For  Norwegians  he  was  the 
guide  who  pointed  out  and  led  to  these  heights  of 
thought,  these  vast  spaces  away  from  the  sultry  sor- 
did life  below.  From  those  heights  the  poet's  voice 
reached  us  like  a  clarion  call  in  his  first  long  poems, 
and  in  his  last  he  seems  to  take  leave  of  everything 
and  disappear  in  their  mists. 

The  superior  view  of  life  granted  from  the  heights 
is  not,  alas,  what  one  gets  in  the  valley  beneath.  The 
valleys  of  Norway  are  not  open  dales  with  smiling  vil- 
lages  and  beautiful,   spreading,   dark-leaved   trees,   as 

[120]        , 


4 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


in  Switzerland.  Instead,  there  are  the  fir,  the  juniper, 
and  the  white-stemmed  birch,  all  slender,  courting  the 
sunshine,  enduring  of  temper,  battling  incessantly  for 
more  room.  These  clothe  the  bleak  sides  of  the  rock 
with  their  dark  and  light  hued  foliage.  Besides,  there 
are  moss  and  heather,  beautiful  fine  grasses  and  tiny 
flowers.  Such  is  the  vegetation  of  the  Norwegian 
valleys — indicative  of  a  meager  soil  sparsely  distrib- 
uted and  only  gradually  wrested  from  the  towering 
mass  of  granite  above.  This  is  particularly  true  near 
the  West  coast  where  the  narrowness  of  the  valleys 
become  exaggerated.  Here  the  mountains  rise  almost 
perpendicularly  from  the  sea,  and  the  sea  penetrates 
far  into  the  very  heart  of  the  mountains  until  but  a 
tiny  strip  of  shore  is  left  on  either  side  of  the  fjord. 
There  cling  little  groups  of  buildings,  fishing  villages 
that  can  scarcely  be  called  even  villages,  and  trading 
places  crouching  in  the  very  shadow  of  the  snowclad 
mountain  overhead.  In  these  valleys  and  on  the  clus- 
ters of  islets  and  ledges  which  break  the  terrible  onset 
of  water  and  wind,  lives  a  considerable  part  of  our 
population,  perhaps  the  most  courageous  and  gifted 
part  of  it.  No  wonder  that  under  the  pressure  of  the 
severest  daily  toil  these  people  have  thought  of  the 
mountains  as  their  prison  wall  and  have  sought  success 
and  fortune  always  beyond.  The  sea  with  its  unlimited 
possibilities  has  proved  the  salvation  of  the  Norse 
people,  and  it  is  chiefly  due  to  the  enterprise  and  hardi- 
hood of  our  coast  population  that  Norway  ranks 
fourth    in    the    world's    commerce.      Fancy    what    this 

[121] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


means  to  a  country  of  only  two  and  a  half  million 
people !  No  wonder  the  Norse  sailor  figures  every- 
where, in  the  English  navy  and  in  the  commercial  fleet 
of  every  nation.  But  when  thrust  back  on  themselves, 
the  people  that  live  in  these  narrow  valleys  find  little 
to  feed  their  energy  and  often  eat  their  hearts  out  in 
restlessness  or  mute  despair. 

If  Ibsen  did  not  fall  into  or  remain  in  such  states 
of  mind,  he  shows  abundantly  that  he  understood  them. 
His  active  critical  idealism  compelled  him  to  be  up 
and  out,  to  pass  into  the  wider  ranges  of  thought ;  and 
it  forced  him  at  the  same  time  to  try  to  take  his 
countrymen  with  him  to  nobler  planes  of  living.  But 
his  efforts  were  not  then  understood.  This  lack  of 
understanding  brought  about  his  self-imposed  exile. 
In  his  Emperor  and  Gallilean  there  is  a  remark  that 
may  be  singularly  well  applied  to  himself.  Julian  says 
of  Libianus  that  he  was  a  great  man  because  he  had 
suffered  a  great  wrong  and  was  filled  with  a  noble  wrath. 
The  word  "noble"  here  is  all  important.  Did  Ibsen 
think  of  his  own  case  Avhen  he  wrote  this.''  We  shall 
never  know.  What  we  do  know  is  that  he  felt  he  had 
been  done  a  grievous  wrong  by  the  people  whom  he 
had  served  when  the  coldness  of  some  and  the  abusive 
criticism  of  others  literally  drove  him  out  of  the  coun- 
try and  compelled  him  for  seventeen  years  to  live  and 
compose  in  foreign  lands.  Brand,  Peer  Gynt,  The 
League  of  Youth,  Emperor  and  Galilean,  were  sent 
home  after  his  departure  and  the  Storting  granted 
him  a  lifelong  stipend  to  encourage  him  further.     But 

[122] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


the  conservative  faction  among  the  newspapers  con- 
tinued to  set  up  a  howl  of  derision  every  time  a  new 
work  appeared,  and  he  felt  himself  bereft  of  the  right 
kind  of  appreciation  at  home  even  after  he  had  begun 
to  make  for  himself  a  European  reputation.  The 
wrath  with  which  he  was  filled  he  determined  to  turn  to 
account,  not  only  to  shame  those  who  presumed  to  be 
his  judges  but  to  remove  from  the  nation  that  conceit 
which  is  a  sure  mark  of  ignorance,  so  that  others  fol- 
lowing his  calling  should  not  in  future  suffer  as  he  had. 
We  all  know  how  he  set  about  his  task,  and  his  self- 
imposed  mission  certainly  resulted  in  an  altered  atti- 
tude toward  our  authors  and  poets,  even  the  most  radi- 
cal. After  the  storm  had  subsided  which  followed  the 
publication  of  The  League  of  Youth,  in  which  he  sati- 
rizes the  tendencies  of  Norwegian  local  politics,  he  was 
for  a  time  silent  except  for  the  letter  he  sent  home  in 
1872  on  the  millenial  celebration  of  the  existence  of 
Norway  as  a  united  kingdom.  In  this,  after  a  brief 
prelude  in  which  he  greets  his  people  from  afar  and 
reminds  them  of  his  exile  and  of  the  bitterness  of 
solitude  in  strange  lands,  he  begs  them  to  fight  a 
second  time  the  battle  of  Hafrsfjord,  not  as  of  old 
with  ships  and  soldiers  but  with  ideas,  to  liberate  the 
nation  from  the  spirit  of  intolerance  and  persecution 
and  to  effect  an  inner  higher  union  such  as  it  had 
not  hitherto  known.  I  remember  well  the  appearance 
of  this  fervent  appeal — an  appeal  which  was  also  a 
warning.  He  spoke  less  as  a  man  to  his  fellows  than 
as   a  king  addressing  his   subjects   or   a   prophet   his 

[123] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


erring  brethren.  The  stanzas  rolled  with  a  pathos 
like  the  tones  of  a  pipe-organ.  Little  as  I  then  under- 
stood it  all,  I  can  still  feel  the  shiver  of  premonition 
and  awe  which  passed  through  me,  the  profound  sorrow 
for  ourselves  and  for  the  poet.  Seldom  has  a  nation 
received  so  imperious  a  call  from  one  whom  it  accused 
of  indifference  to  its  best  interests. 

His  appeal,  however,  met  very  little  response  just 
then.  We  had  closed  our  hearts  to  Ibsen  at  that  time. 
We  thought  it  strange  that  we  should  be  criticized 
so  much,  Norway,  we  argued,  was  certainly  no  back- 
woods country.  It  was  to  all  appearance  in  the  front 
rank  of  both  material  and  intellectual  progress.  Our 
painters,  our  composers,  our  authors,  among  them 
Ibsen  himself,  were  no  longer  merely  local  celebrities. 
And  we  calmly  assumed  the  correctness  of  Fischer's 
dictum:  "Der  welcher  schumpft  hat  meistens  unrecht." 
Ibsen,  however,  saw  that  the  political  disagreement  of 
that  time  began  to  deteriorate  into  a  mere  squabble, 
that  the  disturbances  consum.ed  our  strength;  and  his 
soul  waxed  too  bitter  within  him  to  mince  words. 
In  this  respect  Bjornson  was  entirely  different.  He 
always  enjoyed  a  fight.  In  his  books  there  is  always 
some  one  fisticuffiing  some  one  else.  But  to  Ibsen's  more 
patrician  taste  the  noise  and  the  abuse  which  political 
strife  always  brings  seemed  highly  repellent.  Much,  of 
course,  could  be  said  to  justify  or  condemn  this  incident 
in  the  national  life.  One  thing  is  sure,  a  small  country 
must  be  alive,  every  atom  of  it,  if  it  is  to  maintain 
itself   in    the   battle    for   room   and   power    among   the 

[124] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


nations,  and  political  commotion  is  generally  the  most 
direct  way  of  keeping  every  one  stirred  and  wide  awake. 

Ibsen,  however,  demanded  freedom  from  within  as 
the  only  real  guarantee  for  the  perfect  political  free- 
dom we  coveted;  and  no  one  can  say  he  was  not  right. 
To  clean  the  atmosphere  of  its  putrid  elements,  this 
alone  could  keep  us  in  health ;  to  turn  to  introspec- 
tion, to  reveal  and  combat  our  weaknesses,  this  alone 
could  make  us  strong  and  above  all,  true.  And  thus 
he  began  his  crusade  against  social  prejudice  and 
injustice. 

These  distinctly  national  conditions,  then,  are  the 
real  sources  of  that  uncompromising  severity  which 
some  have  named  puritanical.  It  was  too  deeply 
ingrained  and  sprang  from  too  profound  suffering,  both 
actual  and  imaginative,  to  have  been  produced  merely 
by  mixture  of  foreign  blood,  by  an  exaggerated  cos- 
mopolitanism, or  by  personal  resentment.  Most  intense 
nationalism,  living  faith  in  his  country,  and  in  man- 
kind, was  its  primitive  origin.  Unfaith  and  pessi- 
mism were  only  the  superficial  appearances  which  his 
rebukes  to  his  people  assumed  in  the  eyes  of  those  less 
clear-sighted. 

Two  great  works  of  Ibsen  are  so  profoundly  national 
in  their  source,  in  their  appeal,  and  in  their  revela- 
tion of  character,  that  perhaps  only  a  native  can 
entirely  comprehend  them.  Though  given  to  the  world 
at  large.  Brand  and  Peer  Gynt  present  Norwegian 
types  and  preeminently  belong  to  Norwegians. 


[125] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Mention  has  been  made  of  the  repressing  effect  which 
the  uncompromising  mountains  have  on  the  dwellers 
in  the  narrow  coast  valleys.  That  abnormal  repression 
must  needs  find  an  outlet.  From  among  this  coast 
population,  crushed  at  times  into  apparent  muteness, 
more  than  elsewhere  in  Norway,  arise  ultraists  and 
fanatics  who  carry  their  demands  and  their  specula- 
tions far  beyond  what  the  church  and  the  state  permit. 
God  appears  to  them  as  a  terrible  lord  of  sufficiency 
whom  no  prayer  or  supplication  can  move.  The  stag- 
nation of  the  Lutheran  Church  has  been  broken  from 
time  to  time  by  preachers  who  have  generally  hailed 
from  these  districts  and  who  have  traversed  the  coun- 
tr}'^  convulsing  congregations  with  tears  and  moanings 
for  their  sins.  Of  course  a  persecution  soon  followed 
such  offenders,  yet  a  shock  had  been  felt.  Even  within 
the  Church  itself  the  spirit  of  contradiction  and  criti- 
cism has  now  and  again  awakened.  In  my  childhood 
I  often  passed  the  house  where  one  of  the  arch  offend- 
ers spent  his  last  years,  shunned  and  forgotten,  a 
lonely,  struggling,  sad  man;  but  for  all  that,  to  the 
Church  he  had  defied,  he  had  been  a  harbinger  of  freer 
spirit  and  truer  life.  Ibsen's  Brand  presents  such  a 
preacher,  such  a  militant  soul  who  rests  not  satisfied 
with  what  is  transmitted  but  tries  to  reach  greater 
depths,  nobler  heights,  and  perishes  in  the  conflict. 

The  book  is  a  combination  of  various  elements  of 
revolt  against  the  Church  as  a  state  institution.  It 
dates  from  the  period  of  the  great  pietistic  movement 
in  Norway,  and  is  in  the  widest  sense  a  poetical  philo- 

[126] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


sophicnl  summary  of  the  interest  for  life  of  such  a  wave 
of  strong  rehgious  feeling  and  fanaticism  as  that  period 
witnessed.  This  great  matter  certainly  touched 
Ibsen's  searching  mind  more  than  any  other  man's,  far 
or  near.  It  is  with  the  glaring  light  of  his  Diogenes 
lantern  that  he  reveals  a  story  of  fierce  domination 
and  unintelligent  submission,  followed  by  as  fierce  a 
popular  revolt  and  the  inward  conviction  of  failure. 
If  any  moral  sentence  were  to  be  chosen  as  the  motto 
of  the  book,  it  might  be  that  of  Goethe:  "Licht,  mehr 
Licht !"  Ibsen  is  questioning  the  right  and  value  of 
the  spiritual  supremacy  that  some  ardent  natures  claim 
(in  religious  matters)  over  their  fellow-beings,  and  he 
shows  the  form  such  spiritual  supremacy  takes  when 
the  mind  is  powerfully  agitated. 

Historically,  the  first  rebel  against  the  Church  was 
the  Danish  philosopher  Kirkegaard,  who  was  himself 
a  theologian  and  minister.  Kirkegaard's  attacks  on 
the  Church  as  a  state  institution  were  severe  in  the 
extreme.  He  made  the  whole  thing  crumble  under  his 
blows.  He  declared  that  he  would  rather  commit  the 
worst  crime  than  set  his  foot  in  a  church.  He  was 
of  course  bitterly  assaulted  by  the  Press — not  the  least 
so  because  he  like  Ibsen  considered  it  his  chief  business 
to  ask  questions  rather  than  to  answer  them.  The 
other  noted  representative  of  conscious  revolt  within 
the  Church  was  Pastor  Lammers,  pastor  in  Skien, 
Ibsen's  native  town.  He  had  been  pastor  for  twenty 
years  when  he  declared  that  he  could  stand  it  no 
longer  and  resigned.     In  his  last  sermon  he  called  the 

[127] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


churches  houses  of  comedy  and  the  official  divine  serv- 
ice idolatry;  and  he  refused  to  be  a  hypocrite  any 
longer,  even  for  dear  daily  bread.  He  founded  a  free 
congregation  which  later  met  in  the  open  air,  the 
church  proving  too  small. 

The  mind  of  Brand  is  that  of  a  critic.  His  exaspera- 
tion gets  the  better  of  him  and  he  strikes  out  right 
and  left.  He  is  unproductive,  but  he  at  least  tries  to 
clear  the  road  of  debris.  He  is  the  type  of  a  leader,  a 
prophet,  a  spiritual  fire,  as  his  name  indicates;  a 
reformer  who  wishes  to  strike  down  and  annihilate  by 
the  blaze  of  his  wrath  the  dull  vicious  vermin  that 
poison  the  world  and  infect  the  pastoral  herd,  and  to 
put  up  instead,  a  new  altar  and  establish  a  new  devo- 
tion to  God.  He  means  to  wake  up  people  with  his 
Word  as  well  as  with  his  example.  Full  of  unflinching 
belief  in  his  right  and  his  mission,  he  is  a  zealot  with  as 
narrow  a  view  of  Christianity  as  any  of  the  fanatics 
fostered  in  those  valleys  where  the  mountains  crowd 
out  the  sky  and  the  hardships  of  life  seem  to  lie  in  wait 
for  one's  very  soul.  Severe  as  is  existence,  are  the 
views  of  all  those  that  strive  for  it.  The  word  "sin" 
covers  such  a  vast  field  of  harmless  enjoyment!  Minds 
there  are  shy  and  bitter,  the  deadening  of  the  flesh  is 
the  highest  achievement  comprehended.  The  most 
innocent  play  incites  severe  proof ; — how  can  feeling  or 
compassion,  warmth  of  heart  and  spontaneity,  not 
freeze  and  crystalize  in  such  surroundings.'' 

Brand  is  as  erring  in  his  converting  frenzy  as  are 
those  that  beguile  him  and  finally  drive  him  out  beyond 

[128] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norivegians 


the  boundaries  of  his  parish  into  the  lonely  wilderness 
to  perish  in  the  cold  and  snow.  This  failure  to  find 
any  response,  this  absolute  defeat  of  his  mission, 
strikes  a  harder  blow  than  his  exposure  and  his  unhap- 
piness.  Doubt,  feeling  of  inability  to  understand  more 
than  one  side  of  the  reforming  work,  gnaws  on  his 
conscience ;  he  is  overcome  and  in  the  anguish  of  death 
the  cry  goes  up  to  heaven  whether  after  all  he  has  not 
been  mistaken,  whether  the  unswerving  energy  of  his 
man's  will  shall  not  be  the  quality  that  redeems  him. 
He  receives  as  answer  that  God  is  not  the  God  of  law 
but  of  love.  Thus  Brand  sinks  perishing  at  the  feet 
of  the  mercy  he  has  not  understood,  and  the  snow- 
storm that  has  swept  around  him  covers  him  up  and 
extinguishes  the  last  sparks  of  the  fire  that  burned  so 
fervently. 

The  representatives  of  officialdom  in  the  poem  are 
and  are  not  true  to  nature.  Of  course  all  officials  were 
not  unscrupulous  nor  heartless  nor  bootlicks,  as  are 
the  Dean  and  the  Mayor.  Yet  there  is  a  large  kernel 
of  trutli  in  the  character  of  each  as  Ibsen  gives  it. 
The  civil  official  class,  typified  in  the  Mayor,  was 
inclined  to  view  itself  as  the  bearer  of  culture,  insight, 
wisdom  and  practical  understanding;  it  played  Provi- 
dence to  the  common  man,  denying  him  sense  or  judg- 
ment. Whoever  did  not  belong  to  that  class  was  looked 
down  upon  as  inferior.  This  is  even  today  a  fault  of 
the  official  class,  much  as  everywhere  in  Europe.  The 
feeling  of  superiority  was  especially  evident  with 
regard  to   the   peasants,  who    in   matters  of  law  were 

[129] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


often  helpless  in  the  hands  of  the  officials.  Henrik 
Wergeland  died  financially  ruined  partly  because  of  the 
many  lawsuits  in  which  he  engaged  to  defend  peasants 
who  appealed  to  him  for  help  against  the  often  unscru- 
pulous officials.  Of  course  all  these  servants  of  the  law 
were  patriots  in  their  way,  they  strove  as  they  thought 
sincerely  for  the  welfare  of  the  country,  but  they  cer- 
tainly did  not  get  the  sympathy  or  confidence  of  the 
people. 

The  Dean,  as  a  representative  of  the  clerical  official 
class,  is  an  even  more  vicious  type.  Suave,  unctious, 
fearful  of  giving  offense  to  the  high,  he  stands  for 
those  in  the  upper  ranks  of  churchmen  who  felt  them- 
selves first  and  foremost  to  be  not  shepherds  but  offi- 
cials. The  cant  resorted  to  on  festival  days  and  heard 
likewise  from  the  pulpit  resounds  even  now  in  my  ears. 
As  often  happens,  they  were  high  livers,  yielding  to 
none  in  fondness  for  rich  eating  and  excellent  wines, 
plus  the  jokes  which  are  engendered  by  plentiful  food. 
It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  the  Church  which  these 
men  represented  was  to  the  people  an  object  of  indiffer- 
ence and  even  contempt.  One  reason  for  this  was  the 
activity  shown  by  such  clergy  in  persecuting  the  lay 
preachers,  some  of  whom  were  true  apostles  of  the 
faith.  When  the  reaction  came,  this  class  of  our 
priesthood  was  by  popular  vote  excluded  from  repre- 
sentation in  the  Storting ;  whereas  before  they  had  been 
almost  all-powerful.     Thus  ended  their  saga. 

Though  Ibsen  may  have  had  some  sympathy  with  the 
particular    phases    of    life    shown    in    Brand,    he    had 

[130] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


none  with  those  represented  in  Peer  Gynt.  In  these, 
his  polemic  incHnations  found  a  fit  subject  for  attack. 
While  our  mountain  valleys  harbor  the  most  gifted  and 
energetic  portion  of  our  population,  as  the  rarest 
most  exquisite  flowers  grow  under  the  very  brow  of  the 
snow,  yet  there  are  others,  perhaps  negligible  as  indi- 
viduals though  not  as  a  class,  in  whom  the  divine  dis- 
content is  not.  Indifferent,  shiftless,  they  are  given  to 
bolstering  themselves  up  with  a  false  respectability 
which,  however,  they  are  quick  to  throw  away  when 
there  is  no  palpable  gain  in  keeping  it.  Such  charac- 
ters form  the  riff-raff  of  every  country;  the  loudest 
politically,  pushing  forward  on  every  occasion,  clam- 
oring for  themselves,  wielding  and  wasting  power 
until  the  "still  in  the  land"  grow  weary  with  the 
tumult.  This  type  Ibsen  has  immortalized  as  a  national 
mock-hero.  Since  the  days  of  Aristophanes  perhaps 
no  greater  satire  than  Peer  Gynt  was  ever  written 
on  a  people  nor  one  in  which  every  thrust  leaves  so 
indelible  a  mark.  Yet  all  is  done  without  a  tinge  of 
the  abuse  which  disfigures  the  pamphleteering  of  the 
Greek.  Nor  did  anything  Ibsen  ever  wrote  strike 
home  to  the  dullest  as  did  this.  It  showed  another 
side  of  the  national  character,  the  seamy  side,  too 
often  in  evidence,  alas,  during  the  period  from  1860 
to  1890.  The  broader  human  quality  of  the  poem 
appeals  to  us  more  now  than  it  did  at  the  time  of  its 
appearance,  when  it  smote  us  hip  and  thigh.  Brand 
was  at  first  beyond  the  ken  of  the  majority;  it  was  too 
subtle,  too  combative,  too  acute  in  its  suffering.     But 

[131] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Peer  Gynt — the  animated  discourse,  the  bits  from 
fairy  tale  and  folklore,  the  dancing  rhythm,  the  change 
of  scenery,  the  jauntiness  of  the  whole  conceit,  and 
withal  the  stinging  quality  of  its  wit,  burning  the 
tongue  as  one  recited  it — nothing  equal  to  that  was 
ever  written  among  us.  And  it  was  at  once  compre- 
hended. In  fact,  it  has  become  the  Norseman's  Bible. 
He  reads  it,  ponders  it,  quotes  it,  draws  on  every  occa- 
sion from  its  inexhaustible  drollery  and  sarcasm. 

Although  it  has  been  translated  with  some  success, 
it  is  untranslatable  in  its  essence,  in  the  spirit  of  that 
taunting  rippling  laughter  which  echoes  through  the 
whole.  Those  who  read  Peer  Gynt  in  English  will 
never  quite  fathom  what  an  insufferable  cad  and  bun- 
gler is  this  country  lad  who  becomes  a  business  man 
with  the  motto :  business  for  business'  sake ;  who  turns 
into  a  globe-trotter ;  yet  whose  egotism  serves  only  to 
make  him  sourly  sceptical  toward  everything.  And 
still  he  is  determined  that  nobody  and  nothing  shall 
change  him.  Thus  he  returns  home,  craftily  evading 
the  admonitions  of  conscience,  and  even  escaping  death, 
which  waits  for  him  on  every  crossroad  and  which 
would  quite  catch  him  were  it  not  for  an  old  white- 
haired  woman,  his  former  sweetheart,  whom  he  had 
left  a  blooming  girl.  She  is  the  only  one  who  now 
welcomes  him.  Thus  ends  the  poem ;  whether  in  seri- 
ousness or  irony,  who  shall  say.''  With  me  it  has 
always  left  the  impression  of  irony,  yet  Grieg's  music 
refutes  every  thought  of  this.  No  wonder  that  for- 
eigners  find   the   poem,   with    its    scenes    shifting   from 

[132] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


the  Norwegian  mountain  peak  to  the  desert  Sahara, 
with  its  many  yarns,  its  allusions,  hits  and  quips  right 
and  left — no  wonder  that  foreigners  find  it  a  most 
baffling  production,  something  midway  between  a  farce 
and  a  fantasy. 

To  foreigners  the  typical  Norwegian  often  appears 
the  most  stolid  of  beings.  Ibsen,  however,  did  not 
choose  his  type  at  random.  The  type  he  portrays 
is  the  peasant,  but  by  no  means  the  better  kind 
of  peasant.  The  Norse  peasant  at  his  best  is  a 
very  aristocratic  husbandman.  He  is  neither  a 
fool  nor  a  knave,  neither  obsequious  nor  lacking  in 
deference.  His  quiet  but  perfectly  self-possessed  bear- 
ing is  usually  characterized  by  the  very  best  breeding. 
He  is  at  once  modest,  kindly,  and  firm.  With  a  few 
words  he  sets  the  stranger  right  who  attempts  to  impose 
on  him.  Foreigners  detect  this  peculiar  aloofness, 
as  does  the  native  from  the  city  who  during  vacation 
mingles  with  the  country  people.  An  American  traveller 
declared  she  would  as  little  have  dared  to  address 
a  duchess  uninvited  as  to  address  some  of  the  plain 
women  she  met  on  the  liighroad  walking  to  church  in 
their  national  costume.  There  is  something  in  their 
manner  which  forbids  familiarity.  It  was  the  peasant 
woman,  not  the  American,  who  pleasantly  bade  the 
stranger  good  day. 

Hence  the  appalling  effect  on  a  foreigner  of  such 
revelations  as  those  in  Peer  Gyni.  Such  a  peasant  as 
this  is  to  him  a  new  type.  But  to  us  the  poem  is  blood 
of  our  blood,  bone  of  our  bone,  and  the  fantastic  ele- 

[133] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


mcnt  makes  it  only  so  much  the  more  bewitching  to 
our  inherent  love  of  the  extraordinary.  For  the  Norse- 
man loves  satire ;  he  is  keenly  alive  to  its  sting,  now 
deadly,  now  salutarj^  and  never  is  satire  more  irresist- 
ible to  his  sense  of  the  ludicrous  than  when  it  appar- 
ently flatters  his  folly  and  leads  him  unawares  into 
admitting  how  utterly  absurd  and  execrable  such 
doings  reall}^  are.  As  Ibsen  became  more  Europeanized 
he  lost  this  inimitable  touch  of  raillery  which  drew  a 
smile  even  while  it  drew  blood,  his  blows  fell  heavier,  the 
lashes  seemed  to  leave  scars  on  the  body  of  the  nation 
after  the  whipping  was  over.  So  at  least  some  of  us  felt 
it.  But  the  satire  in  Peer  Gynt  is  lighter,  more  genial, 
and  is  even  more  unanswera,ble  than  the  bitterer  satire 
of  the  later  social  plays. 

And  yet  even  in  the  social  plays  the  satire  is  too 
keen  and  clear-sighted  to  allow  him  to  be  dogmatic. 
As  one  translator  says  of  him,  "his  most  definite  and 
dominant  thoughts  come  to  the  surface  laden  with 
that  tangle  of  counter-thought  which  gathers  about 
every  peremptory  conclusion  in  the  depths  of  a  critical 
mind."  It  is  well  to  remember  these  lines.  Humanity 
has  no  heroes  to  Ibsen,  unless  it  be  some  of  his  women. 
The  figures  are  never  seen  with  a  naive  admiring 
glance,  but  rather  with  a  searching  eye  in  order  to 
bring  out  their  whole  character,  to  give  the  sense  about 
them,  if  3^ou  will. 

The  social  novel  is  usually  the  forerunner  of  the 
social  drama.  In  France  the  best  representative  of 
the  social  novel  in   the  first   half  of  the   century  was 

[134] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


undoubtedly  George  Sand,  an  author  whose  tremen- 
dous influence  on  fiction  and  drama  alike  is  scarcely 
yet  fully  recognized.  The  first  social  novel  in  Norse 
or  in  any  Scandinavian  literature  was  Camilla  Collett's 
The  Magistrate's  Daughters.  This  novel  inaugurated 
in  Scandinavia  the  movement  for  the  liberation  of  women 
from  the  tutelage  of  centuries.  That  movement,  since 
become  a  world  issue,  was  then  an  extreme  novelty 
except  to  those  who  had  read  George  Sand  or  were 
familiar  with  the  Comtean  philosophy.  John  Stuart 
Mill's  Essay  on  the  Subjection  of  Women  appeared 
in  1869,  Fru  Collett's  novel  in  1855;  so  that  she  was 
well  ahead  of  him.  Mill  wrote  from  sympathy,  Fru 
Collett  from  her  own  bitter  experience.  Throughout 
her  life  she  kept  the  subject  before  the  public  in  a 
succession  of  essays  wherein  she  discussed  in  the  witti- 
est way  the  prevailing  type  of  woman  in  literature,  in 
society,  and  in  public  estimation.  Fru  Collett  and 
Ibsen  were  well  acquainted ;  they  met  often  during 
their  periodic  sojourns  at  Munich,  Dresden,  or  Rome. 
Fru  Collett  could  not  abide  the  type  of  woman  repre- 
sented by  Solveig  in  Peer  Gynt.  The  namby-pamby 
femininity  that  endures  and  forgives  with  a  sweetness 
which  cloys  on  the  reader  was  to  her  mind  man's  worst 
enemy.  Hoav  could  he  have  anything  but  contempt, 
for  that  kind  of  nonentity .f*  One  is  often  confronted 
with  this  sort  of  woman  in  Ibsen's  early  dramas — the 
long-suffering  Agnes,  outraged  by  Brand  in  her  most 
sacred  affections ;  Solveig  crooning  over  her  returned 
lord  when  he  deigns  to  observe  her  waiting  arms ;  Dagny 

[135] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


in  the  Chieftains  of  Helgeland,  always  whimpering 
and  shocked;  Fru  Bernick,  and  a  number  of  others 
undoubtedly  portrayed  from  nature,  are  all  of  the 
same  pattern  and  are  too  easily  ignored  by  sovereign 
man.  But  in  Ibsen's  first  social  drama,  The  Pillars  of 
Society,  a  new  type  not  altogether  unfamiliar  but  with 
a  modern  vital  air  not  observed  before,  made  its  appear- 
ance. Among  the  perplexed  womenkind  of  Consul 
Bernick's  household,  Lona  Hessel  is  like  a  fresh  breeze 
from  the  sea  blowing  from  the  world  of  decision  and 
action.  Lona  sets  things  a-going,  she  inspires  confi- 
dence in  the  hesitating,  rescues  the  helpless,  and  makes 
Bernick,  the  arch  hypocrite,  acquire  the  semblance  of 
a  man.  But  she  has  been  abroad,  she  is  just  back  from 
the  United  States,  and  she  almost  compels  by  mere 
example  the  others  to  follow  her  when  she  returns. 

Fru  Collett  always  claimed  that  Lona  Hessel  was 
by  suggestion  her  creation.  Ibsen  habitually  pondered 
the  criticisms  he  received.  Fru  Collett's  ideas  of 
womanly  dignity  evidently  sank  deeply  into  his  mind. 
He  had  always  been  woman's  just  defender,  and  hith- 
erto in  his  characterization  he  had  been  divided  between 
the  type  of  the  saga  woman,  the  heroic  Norse  woman 
proper,  on  the  one  hand;  and  on  the  other  hand,  a 
type  more  commonplace  and  mellow,  but  vastly  inferior 
in  strength.  Now  he  brought  forth  the  new  woman, 
the  woman  of  ideas,  who  refused  to  be  an  appendix, 
"an  adjustable  zero  for  the  swelling  of  the  sum  total," 
as  Fru  Collett  expressed  it.  With  every  new  drama, 
as   is   now   generally   recognized,   Ibsen    devoted   more 

[136] 


Ibsen  and  the  Norwegians 


study  to  his  women ;  and  the  action  and  effect  of  his 
later  plays  are  determined  far  more  by  them  than  by 
the  men.  In  the  final  words  of  the  first  social  drama 
he  issued  his  dictum :  Neither  women  nor  men  are  the 
"pillars  of  society,"  but  Truth  and  Justice ;  and  the 
last  act  of  The  Doll's  House  expresses  the  revolu- 
tionary creed  which  he  was  to  unfold  and  reassert  in 
work  after  work — Find  thyself,  be  thyself! 

Nevertheless,  he  did  not  stand  so  absolutely  as  some 
critics  have  thought  for  individualism  first  and  last. 
That  sounds  a  little  too  much  like  a  celebration  of 
egotism,  and  to  this  Ibsen  was  vehemently  opposed. 
His  demand  was  much  more  strictly  ideal.  He  asked 
for  the  true  man,  "the  man  as  God  saw  him  in  His  mind 
on  the  day  of  creation,"  the  man  Avith  character  and 
yet  humble,  the  man  that  knows  his  own  will  and  yet 
is  obedient,  the  man  that  has  learned  much,  broadened 
his  spirit,  and  is  full-grown  in  mind  and  body.  Herein 
is  his  point  of  contact  with  Goethe.  But  though 
Goethe  became  serenely  tranquil  and  synthetic  in  his 
teaching,  Ibsen  remained  to  the  last  the  born  revolu- 
tionary and  analyst. 

Another  contention  of  tlie  critics  deserves  some 
notice.  Ibsen  is  sometimes  classed  with  the  authors 
of  poetic  thought  ratlier  than  with  those  of  poetic 
form,  and  he  is  denied  beauty  of  form.  And  yet  to  all 
Norwegians,  yes,  to  all  Scandinavians,  Ibsen  is  the 
master  of  form  par  excellence,  none  of  our  poets  being, 
as  he  is,  the  absolute  artist  that  bends  and  shapes  the 
language  into  perfect  rhyme  and  perfect  rhythm  alike. 

[137] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Surely  he  is  no  Tennyson.  He  carries  the  sword  rath- 
er than  a  wreath  of  roses ;  but  his  weapon  is  as  finely 
wrought  and  Avell  tempered  as  any  masterpiece  of 
Damascus.  The  Norse  tongue  with  its  stock  of  good 
dialect  words,  is  capable,  we  are  proud  to  say,  of 
expressing  whatever  an  artist  may  choose  to  confide 
to  it ;  and  Ibsen  has  been  able  not  only  to  use  it  with 
virtuosity  but  also  to  increase  even  further  its  capacity 
of  expression.  The  question,  therefore,  of  his  superi- 
ority of  form  may  safely  be  left  with  his  own  people, 
who  have  long  deemed  him  beyond  criticism  on  that 
point. 


[138] 


it 


SECOND-SIGHT"  IN   NORSE  LITERATURE 


ME   romantic  movement  in  Europe  in 
the    late    eighteenth    century   brought 
about   a   recognition   in   literature    of 
what  is  peculiar,  individual  and  origi- 
nal,   and    thus    opened    the    way    for 
character    study — a    most    important 
form     of     realism.        This     character 
study,  however,  has  with  some  recent 
writers  lost  almost  all  its  realism  and 
has  become   rather  an  exploration  of 
the  mystic  depths  of  the  human  soul, 
piarticularly  as  these  reveal  themselves  in  anticipation 
of  approaching  bliss  or  doom.      Strong  contrasts  are 
the  means  used,  are  perhaps  the  only  means,  of  sound- 
ing   these    vague    misty    depths.      Maeterlinck's    plays 
were  the  first  works  that  transplanted  a  reader  from 
the  life  of  day  to  the  realm  of  shadows  where  thoughts 
and  feelings  yet  unborn   slowly  take   shape  under  his 
eyes,  often  in  an  icy  cavelike  atmosphere  whither  sun 
and  life  do  not  penetrate  and  only  anticipation  lives. 
Reality — flesh  and  blood — seem  brutal  here;   the   soul 
alone,  or  it  is  better  to  say  only  the  trembling  nerves, 
whisper  through  the  twilight  and  the  night. 

In  Norse  literature,  so  far  as  I  know,  we  have  as 
yet  nothing  of  this  exaggerated  form  of  mysterious 
soul  revelation.  Even  Ibsen  does  not  pretend  to  any- 
thing of  that  kind.  His  mysticism  or  symbolism 
reaches  its  climax  in  open  deed,  is  after  all  transpar- 
ent,  does  not   flow   out    in   anticipation   merely.      The 

[139] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


vague  floating-noAvherc,  the  vibrating-about-what  does 
not  as  yet  appeal  to  the  nation.  It  is  not  "decadent" 
in  the  full  sense  of  the  term.  It  covets  the  deed  in 
preference  to  the  dream.  Introspection  has  an  active 
rather  than  a  passive  character.  And  yet,  to  the  close 
observer,  Norse  literature  too,  in  folklore  and  popular 
belief,  reveals  an  element  similar  to  that  mysterious 
somnambulic  existence  which  an  art-product  of  another 
literature  has  pictured  for  us.  This  peculiar  element 
is  the  belief  that  certain  people  possess  what  is  called 
"second-sight,"  or  a  sixth  sense.  Strange  people  they 
are,  shut  up  to  the  outside  visible  world  and  ill  at 
ease  in  it,  but  open  to  an  invisible  supernatural  world. 
They  are  forced  by  unexplained  and  unavoidable  com- 
pulsion to  watch  the  inner  mysterious  motions  and 
connections  between  the  two  worlds  to  which  others  are 
blind.  Only  through  their  unexpected  and  often  terri- 
fying consequences  do  most  men  become  aware  of  these 
inexplicable  mysteries. 

The  point  that  makes  this  supernatural  element  in 
Norse  thought  of  peculiar  interest  is  that  it  is  general. 
It  is  not  only  a  special  motif  handled  with  dexterity 
by  an  artist  to  create  a  great  momentary  impression 
upon  more  highly  organized  minds,  but  it  is  also  a 
characteristic  still  active  in  the  broad  layers  of  the 
population.  It  is  believed  in  and  testified  to  by  numer- 
ous tales  and  anecdotes  that  any  one  may  hear  who 
spends  an  evening  in  a  friendly  circle  where  ghost 
stories  and  strange  events  are  related.  This  supersti- 
tion has  found  a  place  among  the  masterpieces  of  our 

[140] 


"'Second-Sight'"   in   Norse  Literature 


literature  in  a  tale  written  some  years  ago  by  the 
justly  famous  Jonas  Lie,  and  taken  up  again  by  him 
in  later  productions.  Inasmuch  as  the  story  puts 
the  case  more  clearly  than  any  general  reference  to 
popular  legends  could  do,  it  is  here  related  in  outline. 
In  the  original,  its  value  is  not  only  in  its  literary 
charm,  in  the  marvelous  beauty  and  power  with  which 
it  is  told,  but  quite  as  much  in  the  unique  incident 
itself.  The  chief  figure  is  a  man  who  possesses  that 
sixth  sense,  that  ability  to  receive  warnings  from  those 
mysterious  powers  with  which  present-day  spiritualism 
is  particularly  concerned. 

When  the  story  opens,  this  man  has  become  a  hermit, 
without  much  energy,  seeking  only  a  bare  living,  unable 
to  bend  under  any  yoke,  needing  the  absolute  liberty 
he  claims.  He  knows  he  is  abnormal,  unfit  for  life, 
absorbed  in  memories,  serving  a  painful  almost  horrible 
power  that  at  intervals  carries  him  out  of  himself  and 
forces  him  to  see  as  with  eyes  not  his  own  what  is 
hidden  to  all  others.  When  these  moments  of  strange 
compulsion  come,  he  shuns  every  one,  leaves  everything 
behind,  and  wanders  out  into  the  forests  and  among 
the  wide  hills  for  days  till  the  unrest  has  ceased  and 
the  attack  is  over. 

He  himself  relates  how  this  peculiar  visionary 
malady  has  been  shown  in  his  life.  When  a  child  of 
seven  years  playing  at  his  mother's  feet,  he  suddenly 
in  the  open  door  sees  a  sweet  sad-looking  lady  with  a 
rose  in  her  hand  beckoning  to  him ;  and  as  he  hesitates, 
she  disappears.     He  tells  his  mother  of  the  vision.     She 

[lil] 


Leaders  in  Norrva^/ 


at  first  sits  transfixed  in  terror,  then  presses  him  to 
her  breast  and  bursts  into  tears.  After  that  he  sees 
little  of  her,  for  she  becomes  hopelessly  insane.  His 
father  is  a  merchant,  quiet,  laborious,  upright,  with 
nothing  of  this  strange  faculty,  and  suffering  keenly 
from  the  hopeless  condition  of  his  wife.  For  years 
the  son  has  no  second  visitation  and  has  nearly  for- 
gotten about  his  peculiar  faculty  when  on  a  night  of 
fearful  gale,  dreading  the  loss  of  fortune  and  life  of 
servants  at  sea,  he  suddenly  sees  as  he  stands  in  his 
father's  room  the  man  about  whom  they  are  particu- 
larly anxious  hanging  dead  in  the  rigging  of  the  demol- 
ished ship.  He  sv/oons  at  the  sight  and  is  taken  to  bed. 
But  the  news  comes  soon  enough  that  the  vessel  has 
gone  on  shore  and  everybody  is  lost. 

He  is  then  sent  away  and  recovers  perfectly ;  return- 
ing only  after  he  has  become  a  young  man  with  excel- 
lent health  and  fresh  courage.  At  a  ball  he  meets  the 
girl  with  whom  he  played  while  a  child  and  for  whom 
he  now  feels  another  more  consummate  affection.  She 
returns  his  feeling  and  his  life  seems  to  open  up  brighter 
than  ever  before.  He  has  just  stepped  away  after  a 
dance  with  her  in  the  first  crowning  emotion  of  love 
and  is  watching  her  dance  with  another,  when  the  same 
dreadful  sense  of  impending  calamity,  of  being  forced 
to  see  what  he  does  not  wish  to  see,  comes  over  him. 
The  beautiful  blooming  girl,  happy  and  full  of  life, 
changes  before  his  eyes  into  a  pale  dead  one  with  sea- 
grass  clinging  to  her  dress  and  water  streaming  from 
her  hair.     He  faints  as  before  and  has  to  be  carried 


[142] 


*'' Second-Sight"   in  Norse   Literature 

out  of  the  room.  The  next  day  the  lovers  meet  and 
he  tells  her  that  he  is  not  well,  that  dreadful  images 
haunt  him,  that  he  can  never  be  certain  of  freedom 
from  them.  And  he  proposes  that  they  separate. 
But  she  will  hear  nothing  of  the  kind ;  she  declares 
that  they  have  to  bear  this  burden  together  and  insists 
on  her  belief  that  their  love  will  cure  him.  He  allows 
himself  to  be  persuaded.  A  week  afterward,  however, 
his  beloved  drowns  while  crossing  the  fjord,  and  when 
he  sees  her  again  it  is  exactly  as  he  saw  her  that  night 
while  dancing.  All  hope  of  happiness  is  henceforth 
crushed.  He  lives  on,  bereft  and  in  delicate  health, 
wishing  for  death.  His  attacks  become  more  frequent, 
but  his  memory  of  her  helps  him  to  conquer  them;  for 
if  while  wandering  in  the  wilderness  his  tremulous  state 
can  finally  dissolve  into  a  vision  of  her  form,  in  her 
white  robes  flitting  before  him  smiling  and  beckoning, 
he  knows  the  crisis  is  over  for  the  time  and  he  can 
return  home  to  his  duties.  Thus  her  love  does  become 
a   cure,  as  she  maintained  it  would. 

The  remarkable  thing  about  this  story  is  that  the 
sufferer,  as  regarded  by  the  popular  belief,  is  not  an 
insane  man  telling  his  hallucinations,  but  an  extraor- 
dinary being,  a  poet,  a  visionary,  who  communicates 
with  a  world  of  which  the  ordinary  mortal  has  no 
conception.  He  has  an  extra  window  in  his  conscious- 
ness  that   opens  upon   other  fields   of   life. 

This  belief  is  particularly  prevalent  in  the  more 
Northern  part  of  the  country  where  tlic  wild  magni- 
ficent sea  with  all  its  mystery  and  all  its  terror  and 

[143] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


beauty  sends  countless  fancies  into  a  sensitive  mind. 
There  are  a  hundred  tales  of  how  in  the  hour  of  one's 
death  the  sea  reveals  its  strange  wonders ;  how  the 
ghost  of  the  water — cold  Death  in  a  fisherman's  garb — 
sails  beside  one  in  a  boat  which  is  but  half;  how  the 
water  chuckles  and  the  secret  depths  yawn  as  if  ready 
to  swallow  their  victim.  On  land  other  strange  beings 
exercise  their  power  and  beguile  the  unwary.  Such 
mysterious  stories  of  the  influence  exerted  upon  man 
by  nature  in  her  violence  or  her  gentleness  appear  in 
the  myths  of  every  people ;  but  such  general  belief  in 
the  peculiar  faculty  of  seeing  these  agencies  revealed 
is  probably  nowhere  found  so  abundantly  and  so  dis- 
tinctly and  beautifully  expressed.  Our  folklore  no  less 
than  our  popular  belief  is  rich  in  tales  of  these  second- 
sighted  men  and  women.  Many  have  been  introduced 
into  literature  proper  through  a  series  of  volumes  col- 
lected from  the  inexhaustible  storehouse  of  the  popular 
imagination. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  Christianity  and  its 
essential  character,  namely  its  spiritual  teaching,  did 
not  penetrate  to  the  innermost  recesses  of  the  Germanic 
mind  till  the  time  of  the  Reformation.  The  effect  of 
its  teaching  before  that  time  was  mainly  to  create 
among  the  people  in  general  a  great  deal  of  supersti- 
tious belief  in  powers  hostile  to  Christianity  rather 
than  belief  in  Christianity  itself.  The  old  gods,  Odin, 
Thor,  and  Tyr,  with  their  large  following,  had  had  in  the 
main  to  give  way  before  the  victorious  Christ.  They 
had  quitted  the   scene   of   action,  the  broad  daylight, 

[144] 


''Second-Sighf"   in  Norse  Literature 


I 


and  had  withdraAvn  into  the  shadow.  They  had  been 
banished  to  the  caves  of  the  earth,  the  deep  hollows 
and  bosom  of  the  mountains ;  but  they  were  not  dead. 
They  continued  their  existence  in  deeper  mystery. 
They  came  forth  when  the  sun  had  gone  down,  when 
the  moon  had  risen  and  the  night  ruled  the  earth ;  or 
they  appeared  before  certain  persons  who  possessed 
the  strange  gift  of  seeing  the  action  of  invisible  beings. 
To  these  they  might  afford  great  entertainment  by 
their  pranks ;  often  they  rewarded  devotion  by  pro- 
tection and  assistance ;  but  they  also  punished  faithless- 
ness or  negligence  with  equal  misfortune,  with  sickness 
unto  death  or  perpetual  darkening  of  the  intellect. 
Prediction  of  the  future  plays  a  part  in  this  strange 
intercourse  between  the  fallen  gods  and  the  mortal  to 
whom  they  are  friendly  and  who  still  believes  in  their 
power.  This  prophecy  is  the  form  taken  by  the  belief 
in  second-sight  in  certain  inner  districts  of  the  country 
where  the  mountains  and  the  forests  still  seem  to  bear 
witness  to  the  struggle  between  the  Jotun  and  the  fierce 
Thor,  or  Odin  with  liIs  broadbrimmed  hat. 

Another  kind  of  belief  in  second-sight,  less  related 
to  the  old  paganism  and  more  to  the  personal  con- 
sciousness, is  the  seeing  of  the  alter  ego  as  a  kind  of 
pursuing  evil  influence.  Of  this,  however,  I  know  no 
instance  in  existing  literature.  It  appears  only  in 
popular  legend. 


[145] 


GRIEG   AS   A   NATIONAL   COMPOSER 


pERTAIN  criticism  of  the  music  of 
Grieg,  while  generally  appreciative  of 
his  technical  skill  and  lenient  to 
his  peculiarities,  nevertheless  plainly 
declares  him  to  have  fallen  short  of 
being  a  great  musician — that  is,  one 
who  treats  themes  of  universal  interest 
and  whose  ideas  expand  into  the 
^  JJ  breadth  of  a  symphony.  The  preva- 
il lence  of  the  "national"  element  in  his 
music  is  referred  to  as  an  instance  of 
his  limited  lyrical  and  subjective  temperament,  which 
has  seized  upon  the  narrow  field  of  folk-song  and  dance 
as  a  convenient  and  natural  vehicle  for  personal  pecu- 
liarities. Such  misconception  may  arise  from  the  point 
of  view  from  which  foreigners  and  theorists  regard 
the  peculiarly  intimate  element  in  Grieg's  music.  There 
is,  perhaps,  no  great  necessity  for  correcting  it,  since 
it  must  in  course  of  time  inevitably  correct  itself;  but 
it  is  a  curious  sign  of  increasing  scholasticism  among 
critics,  some  of  whom  shovild  know  from  personal 
experience  what  part  the  national  element  plays  in  the 
general  development  of  all  art,  and  not  least  in  music. 
It  may  thus  not  be  useless  to  attempt,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  music-loving  public,  a  more  liberal,  less  dogmatic 
appreciation  of  the  national  element  in  Grieg's  music, 
and  possibly  also  to  dispel  some  of  the  false  conceptions 
and  imperfect  explanations  which  are  so  often  associ- 
ated with  the  work  of  a  composer,  and  are  allowed  to 

[146] 


A  Late  Picture  of  (Jrieij 


Grieg  as  a  National  Composer 


grow   and  become   a   tradition   without  question  as   to 
their  genuineness  or  likelihood. 

That  Grieg  should  be  thus  criticised  is  nothing  won- 
derful. No  doubt,  when  a  composer  becomes  popular 
his  days  are,  musically  speaking,  numbered.  And  Grieg 
has  become  popular ;  more,  however,  by  virtue  of  his 
idiosyncrasies,  his  mannerisms,  than  by  appreciation 
of  the  intrinsic  value  of  his  music.  People  play  his 
pieces  and  gloat  over  them  who  do  not  understand 
their  chief  trait.  This  piano-playing  age  seizes  upon 
anything  that  sounds  enticing  to  the  ear  and  brings 
out  the  qualities  of  the  instrument ;  but  what  does  this 
signify.''  Not  by  any  means  that  the  essence  of  the 
composition  is  always  taken  into  account,  assimilated 
or  rendered.  The  outside  features,  the  musical  tricks, 
the  phrasing,  are  the  things  grasped.  By  degrees,  the 
peculiarities  at  first  charming  and  even  seductive 
become  stale,  and  the  hapless  musician  is  reproached 
for  possessing  what  was  previously  accounted  his  vir- 
tue. So  it  has  happened  to  all  tlie  individual  com- 
posers from  Weber  to  Schumann — lately  to  Franz  and 
Grieg;  and  so  it  will  happen  to  all  who  are  still  the 
idols  of  the  concert-room,  Tschaikowsky,  Dvorak  and 
the  rest.  Nor  is  this  their  fault.  They  have  all,  each 
in  turn,  expressed  in  their  individual  way  the  con- 
ceptions prevailing  in  their  time,  and  it  is  the  fate  of 
all  things  made  by  mortals  that  time,  as  it  constantly 
moves  on  to  the  morrow,  forgets  what  was  of  yester- 
day. Nor  can  it  be  made  a  matter  of  reproach  that 
the  artist  has  chosen  for  himself  some  small  sphere  of 

[147] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


expression  wherein  he  moves  supreme.  Not  the  render- 
ing of  the  macrocosm,  in  its  constantly  increasing  vast- 
ness  and  manifoldness,  can  be  the  aim  of  his  art,  but 
only  the  microcosm,  the  world  within  himself,  his  circle, 
his  nation.  To  be  rendered  at  all,  the  universe  must 
still  be  moderate  in  size  and  limited  in  its  comprehen- 
siveness, as  it  was  in  Beethoven's  days,  a  world  full 
of  human  force  which  broke  itself  against  the  bars  of 
destiny ;  or  it  must  be  the  universe  reduced  to  its  meta- 
physical entity,  as  it  exists  in  Brahms'  learned  and 
philosophical  work. 

The  variety  of  methods  of  human  expression  in  which 
the  microcosm  can  be  rendered  has  given  rise  to  such 
rather  artificial  standards  of  judging  a  composition 
as  whether  it  is  universal  or  personal,  objective  or 
subjective,  epic  or  lyric,  or  even  didactic  or  divertive 
in  tone.  Letting  these  criteria  stand  for  what  they 
may,  what  is  it  that,  irrespective  of  skill  of  workman- 
ship, ease,  or  learning,  makes  the  lasting  quality  of  a 
musical  work  and  establishes  the  final  judgment  of  its 
value.''  Is  it  not  the  pi'edominance  in  it  either  of 
thought  or  of  feeling — the  exquisitely  melodious  quali- 
ty, spontaneous,  direct,  lucid;  or  the  weighty,  discur- 
sive, sometimes  even  argumentative,  utterance  which 
by  degrees  builds  up  the  final  issue  and  presses  the 
idea  home.'^  Between  these  two  poles — exclusiveness  of 
thought  on  the  one  hand  and  expansiveness  of  emotion 
on  the  other ;  mountain-heights  of  pure  vision  and 
sheltered  glades  of  sweet  repose ;  the  speculative  quality, 
"die  verstandestJidtigkeit,"  and  the  compassion  charged 

[148] 


Grieg  as  a  National  Composer 


I 


with  memory  but  remote  from  pain — all  music  of  aspira- 
tion wavers ;  sometimes  touching  the  one,  sometimes 
both,  sometimes  remaining  between.  Although  some 
would  characterize  the  one  as  the  more  universal  and 
objective,  the  other  as  the  more  individual  and  subjec- 
tive expression,  is  it  really  worth  while  or  even  possible 
to  say  which  is  the  best  and  the  highest?  Music,  as 
the  fluctuating  expression  of  man's  moods,  can  hardly 
be  restricted  to  any  formula  or  domain  of  utterance. 
This  would  be  to  deprive  it  of  its  greatest  virtue,  that 
of  being  responsive  and  sympathetic  to  all  phases  of 
life,  to  all  shades  of  sentiment.  In  the  end,  docs  not 
our  choice  depend  upon  our  individual  disposition,  and 
does  not  all  music  really  begin,  in  its  expression  as  well 
as  in  its  appreciation,  with  the  individual.'^  If  the  artist 
pictures  the  elusive  thing  we  call  life,  with  its  thousand 
mirages,  or  the  majestic  mountain-top,  where  the  cool 
blue  visions  tell  of  immovable  heights  even  more  sub- 
lime, who  shall  say  which  is  the  more  perfect.^ 

It  has  been  asserted,  somewhat  dogmatically,  that 
Grieg's  music  has  none  of  the  objective  value  of  the 
impersonal  expression  which  characterizes  the  highest 
art,  and  that  he  is  singularly  individual,  at  most  only 
national.  But  in  their  use  of  the  word  "national,"  his 
critics  seem  too  narrow.  Why  always  look  upon  the 
national  as  identical  with  the  local.''  The  national  is 
not  merely  an  expansion  of  the  personal,  it  is  likewise  a 
step  toward  the  universal;  thus  it  unites  both  the  objec- 
tive and  the  subjective,  the  epic  and  the  lyric.  This 
distinction,  however,  often  indulged  in,  between  the  indi- 

[149] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


vidual  and  the  universal,  seems  a  mere  play  with  words, 
sometimes  only  a  question  of  change  of  opinion.  No 
doubt,  Mozart  and  Schubert,  and  Beethoven  most  of 
all,  appeared  distressingly  subjective  to  their  contem- 
poraries ;  yet  to  us,  whom  by  their  individual  rendering 
they  have  helped  to  reach  a  higher  leA^el  of  comprehen- 
sion, they  are  universal.  Such  music  as  Scarlatti's  and 
Bach's,  because  of  its  singleness  of  feeling,  might  be 
characterized  as  universal  in  the  primitive  sense  of  the 
word;  and  yet,  although  these  men  employed  generally 
the  same  means  and  methods,  they  are  not  only  in  name 
but  in  individuality  separate,  in  a  sense  that  character- 
izes one  as  German,  the  other  as  Italian.  All  composers 
of  note  have  either  expressed  some  degree  of  national 
reaction  against  foreign  influence,  or  have  sought  in 
their  woi'k  to  interpret  some  phase  of  the  national  tem- 
perament to  the  nation  itself.  Thus  even  Brahms,  in 
spite  of  his  cool  heights  of  thought  which  might  stamp 
him  as  universal  to  a  peculiar  degree,  has  found  his  chief 
glory  in  expressing  not  only  national  exaltation  in  the 
hour  of  grief  and  memory,  but  also  the  peculiar  spirit- 
ual problems  with  which  the  superior  minds  of  his  na- 
tion wrestle  today — the  eternal  riddle  of  a  true  and 
worthy  life,  the  single-minded  devotion  to  a  noble  idea, 
the  sacrifice  of  success  in  order  to  tend  the  light  of 
superior  knowledge;  problems  which,  as  Brahms  pre- 
sents them,  are  more  thoroughly  German  than  they  are 
or  could  be  English,  French,  or  American. 

Whatever,  then,  the   individual  critic  may   consider 
the  essential  meaning  of  universal  or  national,  it  seems 

[150] 


Grieg  as  a  National  Composer 


necessary  to  admit  that  the  importance  of  a  composer 
must,  first  of  all,  rest  on  the  message  he  brings  to  his 
people.  His  natural  relation  is  to  them  rather  than 
to  humanity  at  large,  and  his  music  becomes  universal 
only  through  voicing  their  aspirations  and  character. 
His  message  to  the  world  can  have  genuine  force  and 
vitality  only  as  it  is  filtered  through  his  message  to  his 
nation.  In  Europe  nationality  has  for  too  long  a  time 
been  a  latent  and  potent  force  not  to  exert  influence 
even  over  an  art  which,  like  music,  may  claim  to  have 
cosmopolitan  tendencies. 

It  seems  that  critics  in  their  estimation  of  Grieg's 
music  have  often  allowed  themselves  to  be  unduly  in- 
fluenced by  his  personal  appearance,  and  measuring  the 
one  by  the  other  have  found  both  wanting  in  such 
strength  as  the  normallj'^  developed  is  presumed  to 
possess.  That  psychological  reasoning  which  bases  an 
estimate  of  mental  worth  on  physical  singularities,  in 
which  the  French  have  of  late  shown  themselves  espe- 
cially proficient,  is  too  easy  and  too  cheap  a  trick  to 
deserve  much  comment.  To  give  the  accidental  the 
force  of  an  axiom  has  always  been  looked  upon  as  both 
unphilosophical  and  unscientific.  The  utter  tactless- 
ness of  the  remarks  showered  upon  Grieg — that  he  is  a 
dwarf,  that  one  shoulder  is  higher  than  the  other,  etc., 
as  if  this  had  anything  to  do  with  his  efficiency  as  a 
musician ! — inevitably  lowers  the  tone  of  the  criticism 
containing  them. 

One  critic,  in  speaking  of  Grieg's  use  of  national 
music,  calls  such  music  a  dialect  rather  than  a  language. 

[151] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


The  remark  may,  indeed,  apply  to  the  original  random 
tunes  and  lays.  But  the  artistic  treatment  of  these 
national  melodies,  the  elaboration  of  primitive  har- 
monies and  the  use  of  them  as  motifs  on  which  to  build 
a  structure  of  learned  musical  composition  take  away 
their  original  crudeness  and  abruptness  without  des- 
troying their  characteristics,  and  add  these  forgotten 
and  secluded  tunes  to  the  great  family  of  melodies  with 
which  the  whole  world  may  become  familiar.  Under 
such  treatment,  their  limited  exclusiveness  exists  no 
more,  and  a  new  chapter  is  added  to  the  volume  of 
human  expression.  Hence  if  a  national  composer 
becomes  popular  in  a  cosmopolitan  sense,  as  Grieg  has, 
this  is  due  not  merely  to  idiosyncrasies,  but  also  to  the 
good  and  legitimate  reason  that  the  message  he  brings 
is  understood  and  appreciated  by  nations  not  akin  to 
his. 

Grieg's  position  toward  his  country  is  peculiar.  Of 
course,  other  composers  all  over  the  world  have  made 
national  music  theirs,  worked  it  over,  drawn  inspiration 
from  it,  feasted  on  its  freshness  of  feeling,  and  em- 
bodied it  in  their  works.  Indeed,  the  national  element 
concealed  in  modern  music  is  much  larger  than  people 
would  at  first  be  inclined  to  believe.  Nay,  upon  exami- 
nation the  national  element  will  show  itself  influential 
even  in  cases  where  the  composer  alone  is  credited  with 
the  invention  of  his  melodies.  But,  however  successful 
in  their  application  of  the  national,  none,  from  Weber 
to  Tschaikowsky,  has  been  so  completely  in  sympathy 
with  its  nature,  so  obedient  to  its  character,  its  form 

[152] 


Grieg  as  a  National  Composer 


and  color,  as  has  Grieg.  Many  see  in  this  a  distinct 
limitation  of  his  genius.  Grieg  ought  to  have  done  as 
his  brethren  did,  they  think.  He  should  have  treated 
the  national  material  as  a  makeshift,  as  an  interpola- 
tion or  ornament.  But  this  has  not  been  natural  to 
him  to  do,  and  the  result  seems  to  justify  his  attitude. 
What  the  possession  of  a  national  music  such  as  his 
means  to  a  people,  the  value  of  its  stimulating  and 
unifying  power,  Americans,  who  do  not  as  yet  possess 
any,  cannot  quite  understand.  It  is  the  same  with  the 
man  who  does  not  know  what  fatherhood  is  until  he  him- 
self has  a  child.  While  the  music  which  claims  to  be 
universal  expresses  often  the  merest  generalities,  is 
vague,  indefinite  and  theoretical — "attenuated  cos- 
mopolitanism," as  Carlyle  puts  it — national  music  is 
strong,  direct,  alive  in  every  fibre.  It  is  of  enormous 
educational  influence  to  the  people,  bringing  the  ideas 
all  have  in  common  home  to  their  mind  and  heart,  with 
the  strength  of  what  is  home-grown  and  truly  lived. 
Of  all  the  Norwegian  composers  of  national  music, 
none  has  touched,  as  Grieg  has,  the  spring  of  the 
idiomatically  national.  The  mountain  fairy  of  whom 
Norwegian  folklore  tells,  the  mysterious  spirit  of  the 
voices  of  the  forest  and  the  silence  of  the  glens,  the 
golden-haired  and  bluc-ej^ed  maiden.  Muse  of  the  pea- 
sants and  inspircr  of  their  lays,  she  who  appears  in  the 
solitude  and  plays  the  "langelek"  and  "lur,"  of  whom 
the  poets  have  sung  eloquently  but  abstractly, — she 
revealed  herself  at  last  in  all  her  eerie  power,  when 
Grieg  took  these  "boorish"  tunes  and  lent  them  a  voice 

[153] 


Leaders  in  Norivay 


that  could  reach  farther  than  the  faint  vibration  and 
whispering  of  her  fantastic  cithern.  Thus  Norwegian 
peasant-music  has  reached  a  development  which  it  could 
not  otherwise  get,  has  become  what  it  now  is — bizarre, 
often  morbid,  sometimes  boisterously  gay,  full  of  wild 
grace,  taunting  and  jeering,  yet  plaintive  and  brood- 
ing; always  singular,  forceful  and  brilliant.  Nor- 
wegians did  not  realize  what  possibilities  were  in  them 
or  their  songs  until  Grieg  put  his  hand  to  the  elabora- 
tion of  these  tunes. 

When  I  here  apply  the  word  "national"  to  the  Nor- 
wegian peasant-music  as  it  originally  existed,  I  ought 
perhaps  to  do  so  with  a  certain  reservation.  It  may  be 
that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  strictly  national  music ; 
nothing  in  its  beginning  is  quite  home-grown,  every- 
thing is  somehow  transmitted  from  elsewhere  and  then 
assimilated.  In  fact,  several  of  the  Norwegian  folk- 
tunes,  for  instance,  in  their  beautiful  sensitiveness  sug- 
gest strongly  both  Haydn  and  Bach,  or  even  remoter 
sources.  In  the  same  way,  the  Swedish  "polska"  in  its 
vivacity,  mocking  charm  and  martial  clamor  forcibl}' 
reminds  one  of  Slavic  folk-tunes.  But  whatever  was 
the  musical  germ  of  these  songs  and  dances,  they  have 
been  so  thoroughly  recast  according  to  the  popular 
temperament  that  today  they  are  Norwegian;  and  by 
Grieg's  working  of  them  into  the  mould  of  more  uni- 
versal tendencies,  they  are  also  in  the  broadest  sense 
national. 

Nor  is  it  only  the  national  in  its  ethnological  mean- 
ing, but   also  the  background   of  national   feeling,   of 

[154] 


Grieg  as  a  National  Composer 


I 


patriotism,  the  historical  past  recorded  in  song  and 
tale  which  have  been  voiced  by  Grieg  as  they  have  never 
been  voiced  before  and  perhaps  never  will  be  again.  It 
is  necessary  only  to  remember  Sonata,  Opus  7,  with  the 
meditative,  almost  religious.  Andante,  the  majestic 
Menuetto  and  the  fiery  Finale,  which  maintains  its 
proud  bearing  to  the  end  and  closes  with  strains  of  high- 
est enthusiasm  and  assurance.  When  one  compares  the 
Menuetto  with  compositions  of  romantic  and  patriotic 
tenor,  such  as  Chopin's  Polonaise  No.  7,  Opus  53,  one 
meets  with  the  same  reference  to  a  heroic  past.  In 
Chopin's  Polonaise,  we  have  history  brilliant  and 
exhilarated  by  blares  of  trumpets,  by  beauty  and  valor, 
by  the  glamor  of  a  great  gathering,  by  the  tramp  of 
horses  and  the  flash  of  swords,  until,  by  a  subtle  change 
of  mood,  it  all  sinks  into  dust  and  the  night-wind  moans 
gently  over  forgotten  graves.  Grieg's  Menuetto  sug- 
gests no  sense  of  bereavement,  but  a  continuous  and 
proud  presence  of  the  fairest  and  noblest  of  the  land, 
crowned  with  strength  and  beauty — a  throng  of  knights 
and  dames,  lords  and  ladies,  the  throne  in  the  back- 
ground, and  the  standards  of  many  battles  and  advent- 
ures waving  in  the  summer-breeze,  while  the  torches 
glow  and  the  music,  now  majestic,  urging  to  deed,  now 
gentle,  persuading  to  pleasure,  puts  the  crowd  in  mo- 
tion responsive  to  its  rhythm.  If  to  this  we  add  Grieg's 
music  to  Bjornson's  poems  and  dramas,  which  are  epic 
if  anything,  his  compositions  for  choruses  and  orchestra 
in  which  he  has  lent  the  poetic  words  a  wonderful,  soul- 
speaking   power,    his   witty    rendering   of   portions    of 

[155] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Peer  Gynt  and  his  Holherg  Suite,  we  find  he  has 
expressed  for  his  nation  its  greatest  good  of  all:  the 
feeling  of  its  historical  integrity  and  its  oneness  with 
the  land  that  bore  it.  Such  beautiful  patriotism,  never 
maudlin  or  chauvinistic,  frank,  earnestly  devoted  with 
a  son's  devotion,  will  suggest  that  he  sank  his  own 
individuality  in  the  larger  unit,  rather  than  that  he 
made  the  national  subservient  to  himself. 

It  is,  perhaps,  not  altogether  wrong  to  say  that  the 
bane  of  Grieg's  highest  work  was  his  settling  for 
good  in  his  villa  by  Bergen  and  secluding  himself  from 
the  vigorous  life  elsewhere.  Certainly,  if  one  knows  the 
temperamental  likeness  between  himself  and  Mozart, 
whose  ethereal  and  unworldly  height  of  beauty  and  feel- 
ing he  rendered  as  no  one  else  does,  and  his  strong 
musical  leanings  toward  Schumann,  it  is  clear  that  not 
all  he  had  to  say  is  embodied  in  the  national.  He 
wished  to  express  other  things,  which  with  unim- 
paired health,  a  different  environment,  and  greater 
means,  he  might  perhaps  triumphantly  have  said.  Pos- 
sibly, as  has  been  declared,  Grieg  did  not  develop  into 
the  most  powerful  expression,  into  grappling  with  cos- 
mic problems  and  solving  them  in  symphonies.  Yet  the 
time-honored  custom  of  considering  a  composer  of  but 
middling  worth  until  he  has  foisted  his  aspiration  to 
immortality  upon  the  world  in  the  shape  of  a  symphony, 
is  about  as  fallacious  as  the  eighteenth-century  theory 
that  whoever  had  not  written  an  opera  was  really  no 
musician  of  note.  It  reminds  one  of  the  English  liter- 
ary notion  that  a  poet  who  has  not  written  a  drama, 

[156] 


Grieg  as  a  National  Composer 


however  lame  dramatically,   is   no   great   poet.      Grieg 
struck   the   pole    of    feeling    rather    than    the    pole    of 
thought.     And  within  the  sphere  of  national  feeling,  at 
least,     he     surely     combined     the     opposite     elements, 
voicing  the  epic  and  objective  as  well  as  the  lyric  and 
subjective.     In  fact,  the  two  are  in  him  so  curiously 
blended   that,   contrary   to   current   opinion,   it   is   the 
nation  which   speaks   its   innermost   thoughts   through 
Grieg's  music  as  much  as  Grieg  himself.    We  agree  that 
he   was   more   of   an   artist   in   his   production   than    a 
philosopher.     Hence,  according  to  the  demands  of  some 
sesthetic   rigorists,   he   failed   to   reach   the   very   high- 
est rank.    But  a  composer  is  not  made  up  according  to 
a  pattern,  a  universal  pattern ;  he  is  made  according 
to  something  which  it  is  in  his  nature  to  become.     Grieg 
with  his  opportunities  and  endowment  appears  to  have 
made  the  most  of  both,  to  have  expressed  what  he  found 
most  worth  expressing  with  such  surpassing  beauty  and 
oneness  of  feeling  that  the  nation  for  which  he  did  this 
owes  his  work  an  infinite  debt  of  affection  and  esteem. 


[157] 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  GRIEG 

September  5,  1907 

GAIN  Norway  has  lost  one  from  among 
her  circle  of  great  sons  and  daughters. 
Edward  Grieg  is  dead.     The  circle  is 
gvovf'mg    smaller   as    the    names    that 
have   been   intimately   associated  with 
her  rise  from  an  unknown  country  to 
a  leading  position  in  the  world  of  lit- 
erature  and   art   disappear   from   the 
list    of    the    living.      Grieg    (born    in 
1843)  lived  to  be  over  sixty  years  old, 
the  greater  part  of  his  manhood  being 
spent  on  his  property  near  Bergen,  where  he  composed 
a  large  portion  of  his  piano  pieces.     It  is  said  that  his 
health  was  not  of  the  best,  but  his  joy  in  his  work  was 
not  therefore  any  less.     Up  to  his  very  last  years  he 
issued  songs  and  piano  compositions,  besides  giving  con- 
certs both  at  home  and  abroad  and  contributing  with 
his  pen  to  the  musical  and  biographical  literature  of 
our  day. 

Grieg  has  somewhere  told  the  story  of  his  early  youth 
and  his  studies.  He  came  of  a  musical  family,  his  mother 
being  especially  gifted,  and  from  her  he  received  his 
first  instruction.  He  soon  began  to  compose  and 
dreamed  of  going  to  study  in  Germany.  But  it  was 
considered  a  great  risk  to  send  so  young  a  boy  away 
from  home  alone,  and  Ole  Bull  was  the  one  who  per- 
suaded the  anxious  parents  that  the  son  was  really 
deserving  of  so  great  a  sacrifice.      In  Leipsic  he  was 

[158] 


Oriefi  in   JS7'J 


Personal  Recollections  of  Grieg 


brought  up  in  the  traditions  of  Schumann,  Mendelssohn, 
and  Chopin;  and  like  Kjerulf  he  might  never  have  found 
the  true  medium  for  his  musical  gifts  if — by  an  acci- 
dent— the  treasure  hidden  in  the  old  Norwegian  folk- 
songs had  not  been  revealed  to  him.  Through  these  he 
saw  the  path  for  him  to  follow.  He  adopted  their  form, 
but  the  speech  was  after  all  his  oAvn.  Even  the  form, 
under  his  dexterous  sensitive  handling,  assumed 
undreamed  of  musical  possibilities.  For  Grieg  was  a 
great  artificer,  a  master  of  harmony,  a  thorough  judge 
of  musical  means,  a  painter  who  wielded  a  very  sugges- 
tive brush.  On  the  Continent  he  was  for  a  long  time 
knowTi  as  the  Chopin  of  the  North.  But  his  world  was 
one  of  more  freedom,  of  less  retrospection,  than  was  that 
of  the  great  Pole.  He  was  more  imbued  with  the  spirit 
of  adventure  and  conquest  and  exultation  in  the  prom- 
ised land  within  his  sight,  than  could  ever  have  been 
the  wonderful  Polish  romanticist,  whose  soul  brooded 
over  splendors  and  powers  that  were  lost  and  van- 
quished. 

Few  nations  have  greeted  a  composer  with  more 
instantaneous  appreciation  than  the  Norse  people  gave 
to  Grieg's  early  works.  We  felt  with  one  accord  that 
in  his  pieces  was  voiced  a  spirit  at  once  national,  his- 
toric, yet  thoroughly  modern;  and  we  were  proud  to 
call  it  our  own.  Grieg  has  remained  our  interpreter 
until  this  day.  His  compositions  gave  us  a  hearing 
and  allowed  our  most  seductive  melodies  to  win  friends 
for  us  all  over  the  world.      Where  Grieg  is,   there   is 

[159] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Norway;   and  sad  will  be   the   regret   with  which  the 
news  of  his  death  will  everywhere  be  received. 

The  first  time  I  met  Grieg  was  on  one  autumn  day  in 
1879.    He  had  come  to  Christiania  in  the  spring  of  that 
year  and  his  fame  as  conductor  and  teacher  had  already 
made  him  a,n  instructor  much  sought.     I  have  always 
remembered  his   courteous  greeting  and   smile  of  wel- 
come.  He  was  a  very  small  man,  delicately  built,  slender 
as  a  boy,  but  with  a  rather  large  head  surmounted  by  a 
crown  of  glorious  blond  hair.    His  hands,  too,  were  very 
large,  as  a  pianist's  should  be,  strong  and  yet  shapely. 
As  was  proper,  I  had  to  sit  down  and  play  for  him — 
one  of  his  own  compositions.     He  said  I  did  pretty  well 
but  not  so  well  as  the  composition  deserved.   My  method 
was   at  fault.      To  eradicate  the  failings  would  be  an 
endless  task,  hence  I  had  better  begin  from  the  very 
beginning.     And  I  began  that  day  with  five-finger  exer- 
cises, for  Grieg  meant  what  he  said.     The  next  time  I 
went  he  gave  me  one  of  Mozart's  sonatas,  and  it  was 
then  that  he  played  for  me  for  the  first  time.     I  have 
never  heard  any  one  play  in  a  manner  so  instinct  with 
the  very  soul  of  music  (that  most  heavenly  and  illusive 
of  all  arts)  as  did  Grieg.     His  eyes,  Avhich  were  gener- 
ally  of  an  almost  colorless  blue,  underwent  a  change 
when  he  played;  a  fire  sprang  up  in  them,  they  became 
suffused  with  a  light  such  as  is  born  only  in  those  who 
see  the  heavens  open  before  their  rapt  gaze.     His  face 
and  whole  being  radiated  inspiration  and  response  of 
soul  and  body  to  the  voices  that  arose  under  his  fingers. 
I  have  never  heard  and  shall  never  again  hear  any  one 

[160] 


Personal  liccollections  of  Grieg 


play  Mozart — that  divine  master  now  so  little  appre- 
ciated— as  Grieg  did;  with  phrasing  so  exquisite  and 
such  complete  command  of  the  beauties  of  melody.  At 
such  moments  genius  undoubtedly  spoke  to  genius,  and 
I  was  many  times  privileged  to  be  near  and  hear. 

Grieg  was  most  ardently  beloved  by  his  pupils.    When 
he  gave  concerts  they  flocked  to  hear  and  applaud  him. 
Wherever  he  went  a  train  of  devoted  disciples  escorted 
him  to  and  from  the  railroad  station,  gave  him  three 
times  three  cheers,  flowers,  smiles,  and  adoring  glances. 
And  Grieg  enjoyed  it.    Even  when  most  tired,  he  bright- 
ened at  once  into  radiant  sunshine  and  no  smile  could 
be  more  responsive,  warmer,  or  more  enthusiastic  than 
his.     Yet  he  was  not  a  teacher  to  be  trifled  with.     The 
tallest  and  sturdiest  stood  in  awe  of  him  when  he  con- 
ducted an  orchestra  or  sat  down  at  the  piano.    He  soon 
did  away  with  mannerisms  such  as  the  tyro  is  inclined 
to  adopt  for  the  sake  of  effect.    A  reproof  from  his  lips 
when  some  awkward  passage  irritated  him  was   some- 
thing everyone  dreaded  and  recoiled  from.     There  was 
much  grief  in  Christiania  when  after  a  stay  of  a  year 
and  a  half  he  decided  to  return  to  his  birthplace,  Ber- 
gen.    That  was  the  last  I  saw  of  him,  but  the  memory 
of  him  as  a  musician  and  an  interpreter  is  forever  with 
me,  as  with  all  his  pupils. 


[161] 


THE  CATHEDRAL  AT  TRONDHJEM* 

and  A  Vision  of  the  Past,  (1885) 

YING  near  the  southeast  corner  of 
Trondhjem*  is  the  famous  cathedral, 
the  old  Christ  Church — gray  with 
age,  a  world  by  itself,  whence  a  breath 
from  the  thoughts  and  struggles  of 
the  past  comes  v/ith  impressive  greet- 
ing. Though  weatherbeaten  and 
broken,  the  church  is  unique  in  our 
land  both  for  its  architectural  beauty 
and  for  its  suggestion  of  history  and 
legend.  If  we  stand  on  the  high  forti- 
fication of  the  town  in  a  late  autumn  afternoon,  the 
evening  star  already  visible,  and  gaze  down  at  the  old 
city  lying  between  the  pale  blue  sea  and  the  mountains, 
the  sight  of  the  great  old  church  centered  among  num- 
berless little  dark-colored  houses  carries  us  far  back  to 
the  middle  ages.  Two  amiable  figures  from  the  hoary 
past — Saga  and  Myth — seem  to  sit  within  its  leaning 
walls  and  whisper  tales  of  the  glories  of  its  palmy  days. 
The  dark  masses  of  its  spires  and  towers  point  up 
admonishingly,  and  the  gathering  fog,  moving  in  drifts 
here  and  there,  seems  like  ghostly  armies  of  forefathers 
brooding  still  over  their  old  abiding  place,  wandering 
through  its  time-worn  streets,  and  hovering  over  the 
crosses  in  the  churchyard  as  if  to  rebuke  them  for  being 
half  buried  in   sleep   and  weary    of   telling   the   living 

*Pronoimced  Tronyem.     The  restoration  of  the  cathedral  has 
continued  since   1885  and   is   now   almost  complete.— Ed. 

[162] 


Tnni(lliji')ii  ( 'dlhcdrdl,  Jic.stored 


Trondhjem  Cathedral,  Before  Restoration 


The  Cathedral  at  Trondh_)em 


where  the  dead  lie.  Even  the  fortification,  with  its 
grass-covered  ramparts  and  grim  arsenal  watched  by 
one  lone  sentinel,  seems  only  like  a  Shade  of  the  past. 

With  the  recognition  after  his  death  of  Olav  Haralds- 
son  as  the  patron  saint  of  Norway,  Olav's  shrine  became 
a  national  treasure  to  be  preserved,  and  the  little 
Christ  Church  then  standing  over  St.  Olav's  grave 
became  the  treasure  house.  It  was  the  small  beginning 
of  the  present  cathedral.  Slowly  it  added  to  its  dig- 
nities and  increased  its  dimensions,  showing  many  varia- 
tions of  style  in  its  different  periods  of  growth,  till 
finally  it  stood  as  near  completion  as  it  ever  was,  the 
largest  and  most  richly  embellished  cathedral  of  the 
North,  with  St.  Olav's  shrine  of  weighty  silver  placed 
on  the  high  altar  as  "the  crown  and  pride  of  the  land." 

Then  came  losses.  Early  in  the  fourteenth  century 
it  was  almost  demolished  by  fire.  Other  fires  at  inter- 
vals, tempests,  war,  the  Black  Death,  wasted  the  church 
and  the  land; — the  ravages  of  the  church  seeming  but 
an  outer  sign  of  that  inner  impotence  which  depleted 
the  life  of  Norway  itself.  At  the  coming  of  the  Reforma- 
tion the  last  archbishop  fled  and  took  with  him  the  chief 
treasure,  St.  Olav's  shrine,  thus  violating  the  sanctity 
of  the  church.  The  innermost  casket  of  heavy  silver, 
set  with  jewels  and  containing  the  bones  of  the  saint, 
was  snatched  aAvay  and  carried  to  Copenhagen  where  it 
was  made  into  bullion.  Other  possessions  Avere  stolen 
and  the  revenues  of  the  church  stopped.  When  the 
Swedish  Protestant  military  invaded  the  city  they  used 
the  ruinous  but   j-et   stately  old  building  as  a  stable. 

[163] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


They  ran  off  with  the  body  of  St.  Olav  as  a  special 
trophy  and  buried  it  near  the  Swedish  border. 

In  the  following  centuries  little  by  little  restorations 
were  made,  temporary  and  tasteless  efforts,  showing 
sad  poverty  both  of  money  and  of  love.  Finally  in  1869 
a  complete  and  efficient  restoration  was  begun  and  is 
being  continued  at  the  present  day.  Whether  near  or 
distant,  tlie  church  is  of  mighty  proportions  and  impos- 
ing. It  lies  like  an  elongated  cross  stretching  from 
West  to  East,  with  short  broad  wings.  The  West  nave 
is  in  ruins,  the  East  now  restored. 

Of  all  the  work  of  restoration  so  far  done,  the 
chancel  has  been  the  most  difficult  and  is  the  most  beau- 
tiful. Like  a  precious  stone  lying  in  its  perfection  amid 
a  quantity  of  sand  and  loose  earth,  the  chancel  and  its 
adjacent  finished  portions  are  at  present  found  quiet 
and  intact,  though  close  neighbor  to  a  mass  of  debris 
and  a  noisy  confusion  of  workmen  and  machinery.  It 
is  separated  from  the  nave  by  a  special  entrance  and 
steps  and  has  its  own  particular  groined  ceiling.  Ovei^ 
the  portal  is  a  beautiful  marble  figure  of  Christ.  All 
the  art  of  the  style,  in  this  as  in  many  other  cathedrals, 
is  concentrated  in  the  chancel;  the  beauty  of  pillars 
and  vaults  and  the  striving  upward  of  the  long  pointed 
arches  give  it  distinction  and  set  it  apart  as  a  sacred 
place  dedicated  to  the  high  altar  and  to  services  held 
on  the  most  solemn  occasions.  The  shrine  of  St.  Olav 
was  and  is  here  in  the  chancel  directly  opposite  the 
spot  where  the  saint  was  buried.  Near  it  is  St.  Olav's 
Well,    also    an    important    relic;    while    the    adjoining 

[164] 


The  Nave  and  Chancel 


The  Cathedral  at  Trondhjem 


chapels  and  chapter  houses  form  a  chain  of  important 
buildings  in  the  closest  connection  with  the  chancel, 
the  holy  of  holies.  Just  as  the  chancels  of  many  foreign 
cathedrals  possess  superb  dimension  and  architectural 
grandeur  beyond  the  rest  of  the  building,  so  this  chancel 
possesses  an  unsurpassed  wealth  and  delicacy  of  detail 
The  whole  is  a  great  piece  of  lacework,  embroidery  in 
stone.  Besides,  the  airy  lightness  characteristic  of 
Gothic  architecture  is  here  and  elsewhere  in  this  church 
emphasized  by  the  slender  white  marble  pillars  that 
mark  the  corners  and  run  upward  to  the  arches  of  the 
clerestory  and  the  rich  masses  of  the  triforium.  Every- 
where in  the  building  they  appear  and  create  a  cheerful 
brightness,  glittering  like  new-fallen  snow  from  their 
background  of  soft  gray  soapstone.  Seen  against  the 
massive  pillars,  they  recall  the  white  trunks  of  birch 
trees  amid  a  forest  of  dark  pine.  The  likeness  of  the 
chancel  to  a  forest  glade  is  strengthened  too,  by  a  wealth 
of  plant  forms,  leaf  ornaments,  garlands,  wreathed 
and  branched  arches. 

The  beauty  of  these  finished  portions  makes  a  visitor 
all  the  more  eager  to  see  the  great  West  nave  with  its 
historic  King's  Entrance  restored  to  its  splendor. 
Even  now,  despite  all  its  confusion  as  a  workshop,  no 
portion  of  the  church  expresses  such  power  and  purity 
of  style.  The^  clearness  and  restfulness  of  line  triumph 
over  all  the  injury  and  awaken  that  delight  which  is 
ever  the  reward  of  the  truest  art. 

At  present  the  mingling  of  old  and  new  in  the  church 
diminishes  the  pleasure  of  observing  it.     One's  happiest 

[165] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


impression  is  gained  by  lamplight,  when  a  reconciling 
veil  is  thrown  over  what  is  unfinished  and  crude  and 
when  the  warm  gray  in  the  color  of  the  walls,  which 
makes  them  look  extraordinarily  venerable  in  daytime, 
brightens  under  the  light  of  sconces  and  chandeliers 
into  a  transparent  clearness.  A  glad  festive  air  then 
fills  the  place.  The  Christ  figure  shines  out  white 
against  the  illumined  background,  the  red  velvet  on  the 
altar  cloth  and  communion  rail  catches  the  light,  and 
forth  from  the  dimness  of  the  corners  the  apostles  seem 
to  step  with  their  emblems — St.  John  and  St.  Peter 
stand  near  the  altar,  St.  Paul  leans  on  his  sword, 
while  St.  Bartholomew  raises  his  hand  to  proclaim  the 
gospel. 

A  Vision  of  the  Past 

One  evening  as  I  sat  quite  alone  absorbed  in  the 
beauty  just  described  of  this  strangely  spirited  scene, 
the  great  building  underwent  before  my  eyes  a  marvel- 
ous transformation.  Every  suggestion  of  ruin  and 
repair  was  gone,  and  with  it  all  the  bareness  character- 
istic of  a  Protestant  church.  It  stood  complete  and 
perfect,  decorated  and  beautiful,  rich  and  homelike, 
as  in  the  days  when  it  was  the  one  centre  of  the 
community  life.  Its  recesses  were  filled  with  altars 
and  draperies,  its  niches  with  statues ;  paintings 
and  tapestries  occupied  its  wall  spaces,  while  in  the 
windows  were  images  which  I  knew  shed  glowing  color 
upon  the  blackness  outside.  Transfixed  with  wonder, 
I  started  violently  when  trudging  steps  as  of  sandalled 

[166] 


The  KiiKj's  Entrance 


TJic  Cathedrol  at  Trotulhjem 


feet  and  a  bent  figure  wrapt  in  a  long  black  robe 
approached  the  chancel.  A  horn  lantern  was  placed  on 
the  steps,  the  portal  unlocked,  and  as  the  figure  moved 
in  I  saw  the  light  fall  on  his  gray  bald  head.  After 
a  moment  he  came  out  again  carrying  a  missal.  His 
look  passed  over  me  unseeing,  but  fear  drove  me  back 
into  the  shadow.  Then  he  knelt,  as  he  had  forgotten 
to  do  before  entering,  and  knelt  again,  laboriously, 
with  creaking  joints  and  guarding  himself  from  drop- 
ping the  book,  made  the  double  cross,  again  passed  me 
unseeing,  and  slowly  shambled  off. 

I  had  risen  to  my  feet  strangely  shaken.  But  now 
the  deep  sound  of  bells  filled  the  room,  wonderfully 
solemn,  the  bells  of  vesper  service.  Music  began  from 
the  organ,  and  a  procession  of  white-clad  figures  small 
and  large  approached,  their  censers  swaying  like  red 
dots.  Before  entering  the  chancel  all  knelt.  At  the 
altar  the  bishop  knelt  again,  then  turned  and  showed 
his  monstrance.  A  small  bell  tinkled.  Beneath  the 
altar-vaulting,  shaped  like  a  great  ciborium,  glittered 
St.  Olav's  silver  shrine.  Then  from  the  throng  of  wor- 
shippers who  had  silently  gathered  in  the  stretches  of 
the  church  came  low  reverberations: 

Aa'c  Maria,  mater  Dei,   ora   pro   nobis, 

Sancte  Olavc,  qui  es  in  coelis 
Faces  and  forms  in  quick  succession  pressed  forward 
to  reach  the  sanctuary  and  receive  the  sacrament  from 
the  hands  of  the  bishop. 

Presently  the  multitude  swayed  and  parted.  Through 
it  was  carried  a  sick  pilgrim  who  sought  penance  and 

[167] 


Leaders  in  Norxaay 


healing  on  this  festival  day  from  St.  Olav.  On  the 
floor  he  lay,  his  dying  glance  fixed  on  the  altar  shrine. 
The  bishop  knelt  beside  him,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross 
over  him,  sprinkled  him  with  holy  water  from  St.  Olav's 
Well,  breathed  upon  him,  took  both  his  hands  in  his, 
and  finally  spread  over  him  a  cloth  which  had  covered 
the  body  of  the  saint  and  thus  acquired  miraculous 
power.  He  then  returned  to  the  altar  and  prayed  in 
silence. 

All  eyes  were  on  the  sick  man.  Presently  he  began  to 
move,  cast  the  cover  aside  and  strove  to  sit  up.  The 
bystanders  seemed  unable  to  come  to  his  help.  They 
were  too  astonished  to  believe  that  their  eyes  were  wit- 
nessing a  miracle.  But  the  bishop  cried  out,  "Help 
him,  you  who  are  hale  and  hearty,  wonderful  powers 
have  descended  upon  him  !"  Then  there  was  great  agita- 
tion. They  cried  aloud,  they  wept,  they  fell  on  their 
knees  and  praised  God.  All  gathered  around  to  get  a 
raveling  of  the  miraculous  cloth  or  even  to  touch  it ;  and 
many  arms  lent  their  strength  to  lead  the  sick  one 
across  the  floor  to  the  bishop,  who  laid  hands  upon 
them.  With  the  healed  one  all  knelt,  called  upon  the 
saints  for  their  special  needs,  and  made  their  vows.  In 
the  midst  was  the  half  sinking  healed  one,  almost 
beside  himself,  happy  and  tired.  The  bishop  read  the 
confession  of  faith  for  the  whole  congregation,  read  the 
blessing,  took  the  cup,  and  followed  by  tapers,  crosses, 
and  incense,  proceeded  from  the  church.  The  healed 
one  was  lifted  up  and  carried  out,  a  faint  glow  of  con- 
valescence on  his  cheeks. 

****** 


The  Cathedral  at  Tronclhjem 


With  the  procession,  departed  all  light  and  life.  I 
scarcely  knew  where  I  was. 

A  chilly  gust  passed  through  the  dark  church,  and 
the  silence  was  oppressive.  Slowly  the  place  was  illu- 
mined by  a  faint  ominous  light.  It  was  still  the  gor- 
geous church,  but  it  was  so  empty,  so  black,  so  full  of 
fears.  A  dull  mumbling  was  heard,  and  up  in  the  place 
for  proclaiming  the  banns  appeared  Master  Erik,  the 
Blind,  the  Fearful.  He  had  his  archbishop's  mitre  on 
his  head  and  carried  his  curved  staff.  About  him  stood 
twelve  priests  with  burning  tapers.  All  intoned  hymns 
of  lamentation.  The  archbishop  lifted  his  staff  high  in 
the  air  and  cried  out  into  the  church : 

"Anathema ! 

In  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  as  well  as  in  the  name  of  the  mild  unblemished 
Virgin  Mary  and  all  the  holy  saints. 

We  excommunicate. 

Not  alone  by  the  right  which  our  seat  grants  us  but 
also  supported  by  God's  own  word  and  Peter's  power 
to  bind  and  release  in  heaven  and  on  earth. 

Thee,  King  of  Norway,  Sverre  Sigurdsson, 

A  tool  of  the  devil,  a  traitor  to  bishop,  priests,  and 
the  whole  people  of  Norway. 

And  with  thee  all  those  who  have  followed  thee,  sup- 
ported thee,  recognized  thee  as  king  and  thy  actions 
as  just. 

Be  they  all  cast  out  of  the  lap  of  the  church  and 
condemned  to  eternal  punishment." 

A  prolonged  sigh  of  angiiish  went  througli  the 
church;  and  again  the  heart-rending  hymns  of  lamenta- 


Leaders  in  Norwaij 


tion.  The  bishop  once  more  lifted  his  staff  and 
pronounced  the  banns  over  the  congregation,  yea,  over 
all  the  inhabitants  of  the  land. 

"Cursed  be  thy  activity  in  the  state, 

Cursed  be  thou  in  the  fields, 

Cursed  be  thy  savings, 

Cursed  be  thy  descendants, 

Cursed  be  thy  lifework. 

Cursed  be  thy  coming  in  and  thy  going  out. 

Upon  thee  come  all  the  curses  that  Moses  enumer- 
ates and  upon  thee  be  the  righteous  Anathema  Mar- 
anatha,  which  is :  that  ye  be  made  to  naught  by  the 
second  visitation  of  our  Lord. 

No  one  will  say  to  thee  'God's  Peace' ;  no  priest  read 
the  mass  or  administer  the  Lord's  Sacrament. 

As  cattle  shall  ye  be  buried  and  your  bodies  shall 
crumble  upon  the  earth. 

And  as  the  torches  in  our  hands  are  now  extin- 
guished, so  shall  your  lights  be  extinguished,  as  surely 
as  ye  do  not  render  to  God's  Church  full  penance  and 
compensation. 

Anathema !" 

The  torches  were  reversed  and  put  out.  "Anathema" 
was  whispered  round  about,  "Amen"  was  responded, 
"Be  done  as  is  said." 

Sweat  stood  upon  my  brow.  I  seemed  to  be  at  the 
bottom  of  a  grave.  My  God !  Was  there  no  one  any 
more,  were  they  all  slain  by  the  curse. '^  Did  the  church 
lie   full  of  corpses.''.      .      .     Ghostly  voices   seemed   to 

[170] 


The  Cathedra]  at  Trondhjem 


call  around  me :  "Cry  out,  if  there  be  any  one  to  hear 
thee.     To  whom  of  the  holy  saints  will  ye  turn?" 

"No,  no  hope,  only  horror,  O  horror  !  For  the  cursed 
no  place  is  sanctified,  no  happiness,  no  peace,  no  con- 
solation." 

"Do  penance !  Offer  all  that  you  have !  Nothing  is 
so  great  that  peace  of  mind  is  not  far  greater." 

Darkness  enveloped  me. 

****** 

Then  suddenly  there  was  a  loud  knock  at  the  church 
portal.  Again  a  knock.  "Open  the  church  portal," 
some  one  shouted.  "The  right  authority,  the  Lord's 
own  anointed.  King  Sverre  Sigurdsson,  stands  with- 
out !    He  does  not  bear  the  sword  in  vain  !" 

The  tumult  soon  put  life  into  the  dead  bones.  From 
the  arches  to  the  nave,  lights  burst  forth.  Steps 
resounded  loudly  from  all  directions.  More  lights  flared 
up.  There  was  a  jingling  of  keys  and  clash  of  weapons. 
The  King  was  in  the  church  !  I  heard  his  voice. — "The 
monarchy  is  ordained  according  to  the  command  of 
God,  not  according  to  the  device  of  man.  No  one 
receives  the  kingdom  but  by  dispensation  of  divine 
Providence — " 

A  host  of  clergy  came  witli  the  crucifix  and  placed 
themselves  at  each  side  of  tlie  entrance  to  the  chancel. 
But  the  King  continued :  "Does  a  clergy,  priest  or 
archbiship,  cardinal  or  pope,  dare  to  declare  God's  own 
chosen    excommunicated,    and    to    condemn    them    who 

[171] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


follow  him,  when  he  served  God  hi  his   kingdom,  not 
himself?" 

At  this  voices  filled  the  room  with  loud  singing. 
Lights  were  everywhere. 

"God  alone  sees  the  heart !"  shouted  the  King.  "His 
judgment  is  righteous.  Therefore  it  happens  that  one 
bound  by  the  Church  can  stand  free  before  God!" 

A  glory  as  of  the  midday  sun  filled  the  church,  while 
the  singing  grew  louder  and  higher,  like  a  devout  invo- 
cation and  exultant  thanksgiving. 

****** 

Then  King  Sverre  was  no  longer  present.  His  grand- 
son, King  Haakon,  entered  with  his  bodyguard  and  high- 
born men.  Before  him  strode  Archbishop  Sigurd  with 
his  pallium,  the  priests  of  the  chapter  following  and 
carrying  crucifixes  and  banners.  Now  the  lights  of  the 
high  altar  were  also  burning.  I  saw  the  antependium 
wrought  in  gold,  the  vast  treasure  of  golden  vessels 
and  relics,  and  upon  the  altar  cloth  the  costly  shrine, 
glittering  with  many  precious  stones.  On  the  steps 
knelt  my  hero  of  the  sagas,  Haakon,  the  greatest  and 
most  fortunate  of  Norway's  kings,  invoking  the  aid 
of  St.  Olav.  The  archbishop  himself  was  praying 
before  the  altar. 

*      *      *      *      *      * 

But  as  he  communed  there,  lifting  his  eyes  towards 
the  crucifix,  it  was  no  longer  Sigurd,  but  Arch- 
bishop Jon,  praying  alone,  thirty-two  years  later,  and 
bidding  farewell  to  his  seat  and  his  dreams.      .     .     All 

[172] 


I 


o 
» 

s 


The  Cathedral  at  Trondhjem. 


the  glory  had  vanished.  .  .  The  galleries  lay  in 
darkness.  .  .  Not  a  sound  was  heard.  .  .  The 
lights  were  out.  Only  before  St,  Olav's  shrine  burned 
two  torches,  and  out  in  the  nave  glimmered  like  a  dis- 
tant spark  a  single  light  here  and  there  before  the  image 
of  a  saint.  And  the  Archbishop  still  knelt  in  the  silent 
church,  praying  low. 

Then  suddenly  there  was  a  frightened  shout : — 
"Christ  Church  is  burning!"  Heavy  smoke  filled  the 
nave.  Flames  issued  here  and  there.  Doors  were 
thrown  open  and  a  multitude  of  people  rushed  in. 
Through  the  corridors  and  naves  they  ran  back  and 
forth  and  up  and  down  the  stairways.  The  archbishop 
tried  to  direct  them.  The  priests  did  what  they  could. 
Pails  of  water  were  carried  to  the  upper  galleries  and 
dashed  upon  the  flames.  Ladders  were  hoisted  to  the 
fiercest  fire.  Below  in  the  church  relics  and  vessels 
were  seized  for  safety,  tapestries  were  torn  from  the 
walls,  and  images  of  saints  were  carried  away  or  by 
accident  dashed  to  pieces.  In  the  midst  of  the  anxiety, 
water,  smoke,  noise,  and  despair,  a  little  flock  of 
believers  knelt  at  the  entrance  to  the  chancel  and  prayed 
for  the  preservation  of  the  church.  But  it  continued 
to  burn.  At  last  St.  Olav's  shrine  was  lifted  from  the 
altar  to  be  carried  out.  Just  then  the  first  stones  from 
the  vaulting  fell.  Terrible  confusion  followed.  The 
ladders  were  torn  down.  Shrieks  and  moans  from  those 
in  the  galleries  sounded  tliroughout  the  churcli.  All 
rushed    toward    the    doors.      St.    Olav's    shrine    could 


[173] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


scarcely  be  taken  out  through  the   crowd.     A  hollow 
thud  was  heard,  followed  by  thundering.     The  roof  was 

falling  in. 

****** 

I  started  to  escape  with  the  rest.  But  a  skeleton  rose 
before  me  and  cried :  "Now  is  the  Day  of  Judgment !" 

Unable  to  evade  it,  I  slipped  and  lay  headlong  among 
the  smoldering  smoking  ruins. 

****** 


[174] 


► 


Affnes  MathUde  Wergeland 

1913 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE 


HE  writer  of  the  foregoing  essays, 
Agnes  Mathilde  Wergeland,  possessed 
no  small  measure  of  the  talents  belong- 
ing to  her  family.  Full  of  poetical 
feeling  and  delicate  intuitional  judg- 
ment, sensitive  to  all  beauty  in  nature 
and  in  art,  with  tastes  highly  trained, 
she  seemed  to  those  who  knew  and 
loved  her  best  always  on  the  verge  of 
doing,  in  some  art-form,  greater  things 
than  she  had  yet  done  She  herself  felt 
that  her  art  impulses  had  even  from  childhood  been  hin- 
dered and  checked;  and  this  was  no  doubt  true.  What 
she  might  have  done  in  music  could  she  have  continued 
to  study  under  such  instruction  as  Grieg's,  whose  high 
praise  she  won,  can  only  be  conjectured.  Her  passion 
for  music,  her  love  for  her  piano,  and  the  fire  of  inspira- 
tion that  often  flashed  up  in  her  when  she  played  it,  were 
something  to  witness.  Her  attempts  in  painting  and 
drawing  showed  great  natural  ability — left  untaught. 
Perhaps  her  ability  was  unduly  sacrificed  to  the  gift 
of  her  brother,  who  became  a  noted  painter,*  and  for 
whose  education  she  and  her  mother  stinted  themselves 
in  the  years  of  her  girlhood.  Even  recently  she  wrote 
of  her  desire :  "I  long  to  bring  forth  the  intimate  tender 
picture  hid  away  in  my  soul  unlimned." 

Her    wish    to    write    poetry    was    cramped    by    two 
insuperable  obstacles — the  necessity  either  of  using  a 

*See  Frontisjjiece.     This  picture  is  so  ])o]iular  tliat  it  was  used 
as  a  stamp  during  the  Centenary  Celebration  of  191  !•. — Ed. 

[175] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


foreign  language  or  of  appealing  to  a  people  rapidly 
changing  and  from  whom  many  continuous  years  of 
residence  abroad  almost  completely  severed  her.  Yet 
she  never  lost  the  longing  for  expression  of  the  deep 
inner  self  that  sought  an  jesthetic  form.  She  herself 
said  that  when  she  had  given  up  hope  of  attainment  in 
music,  in  color  and  line,  she  turned  to  words  and  to  the 
words  of  her  mother  tongue  as  a  precious  medium  still 
left  her.  But  poverty,  foreign  living,  and  the  need 
of  following  an  arduous  profession  to  supply  the  daily 
requirements — such  conditions  may  easily  be  too  heavy 
to  allow  the  maturing,  in  art-forms,  of  even  the  great- 
est talents. 

Besides,  Dr.  Wergeland  was  a  scholar  and  a  teacher ; 
and  it  may  be  that  the  eminence  she  gained  in  these, 
possibly  more  prosaic  fields,  was  itself  a  reason  for  the 
incomplete  growth  in  the  purely  artistic.  At  any  rate, 
it  would  be  injudicious  to  say  that  the  world  lost  by 
the  fact  that  more  than  song,  poem,  or  landscape,  she 
produced  authoritative  investigations  in  history  and 
led  many  young  men  and  women  to  perceive  new  values 
in  study  and  new  beauties  and  dignities  in  life.  Her 
work  after  all  was  the  same,  though  through  different 
means,  as  the  work  of  her  famous  relatives.  It  was  the 
uplifting,  light-bearing,  man-loving  task*  of  the  pioneer- 
poet  and  the  pioneer-novelist.  If  she  reached  less  fame, 
that  is  partly  because  the  world  sets  an  excessively  high 
value  on  the  moulding  of  ideas  as  seen  in  sentences, 
colors,  and  clays,  and  an  excessively  low  value  on  the 

[176] 


As  a  Girl  of  Seventeen 


Biographical  Note 


moulding  of  ideas  as  seen  in   the  routine   teaching  of 
human  intellects  and  lives. 

Strong  as  her  art  impulses  were,  it  may  be  questioned 
whether  she  would  have  been  satisfied  with  gratifying 
them  alone.  Perhaps  her  instinct  for  thought  was  even 
stronger — curiosity  about  the  past,  philosophical 
questioning  about  man,  his  relations,  conditions,  and 
future  possibility.  This  led  her  to  extensive  study  in 
the  broader  fields  of  history,  civilization,  economics, 
and  culture.  History  of  art,  history  of  literature,  were 
indeed  vital  to  her  and  she  made  them  truly  vital  to 
others ;  but  she  saw  them  in  their  proper  perspective  as 
only  partial  manifestations  of  the  general  development 
of  the  race.  These  truly  philosophical  conceptions 
became  in  time  her  most  characteristic  ideas,  and  they 
shaped  and  ordered  the  facts  of  every  subject  she 
studied  or  taught. 

Even  in  her  early  girlhood  she  showed  a  strong  de- 
sire for  a  fuller  education  than  the  ordinary  by  walking 
several  miles  in  all  weather  in  order  to  attend  an  acad- 
emy in  Christiania,  and  afterwards  to  continue  her  read- 
ing at  the  University  library.  As  she  progressed,  her 
interests  ran  into  unusual  lines.  So  much  so  that  later 
she  chose  as  a  thesis  for  her  doctorate  an  investigation 
of  the  old  Norse  laws  concerning  legitimate  birth. 
Some  years  afterwards,  about  1900,  she  produced  a 
study  called  Slavery  in  Germanic  Society  in  the  Mid- 
dle Ages.  This  work  was  so  excellent  that  she  was  at 
once  recognized  as  the  chief  authority  on  that  subject 
in  the  United  States. 

[177] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


As  is  evidenced  by  these  topics,  medieval  history 
was  the  field  in  which  she  took  most  delight  and  had  the 
greatest  mastery.  Her  familiarity  with  this  period  is 
further  proved  by  a  Syllabus  of  Mediaeval  Architecture 
which  she  felt  the  need  of  and  proceeded  to  write  while 
she  was  teaching  history  of  art  at  Bryn  Mawr  College. 
This  work  still  holds  a  worthy  place.  Besides  these  more 
extensive  productions,  she  wrote  dozens  of  articles  and 
book  reviews  for  various  learned  journals  and  contrib- 
uted not  infrequently  to  Scandinavian  papers,  both  here 
and  in  Norway. 

Dr.  Wergeland  spent  the  last  twenty-four  years  of 
her  life  in  the  United  States.  She  came  soon  after  hav- 
ing distinguished  herself  by  being  the  first  of  her  coun- 
trywomen to  forge  ahead  and  attain  the  degree  of 
doctor  of  philosophy.  It  was  granted  by  the  University 
of  Zurich,  the  only  institution  in  Europe  at  that  time 
offering  the  degree  to  women.  She  used  a  graduate 
fellowship  in  history  that  she  won  at  Bryn  Mawr  Col- 
lege as  a  wedge  to  enter  the  scholastic  world  in  America. 
She  said  of  herself  in  explaining  her  coming  that  Lona 
Hessel  in  Ibsen's  Pillars  of  Society  had  for  years 
been  to  her  a  kind  of  model  and  inspiration,  and  in  a 
way  was  the  cause  of  her  plan  to  make  a  place  for  her- 
self in  this  country.  She  may  have  found  double  inspi- 
ration in  the  fact  that  she  knew  Lona  Hessel  to  be 
chiefly  the  creation  of  her  great  kinswoman,  Camilla 
Collett.  Lona's  business  in  the  play  is  to  "let  in  the 
light" ;  and  though  Dr.  Wergeland  found  darkness  and 

[178] 


Biographicdl  Note 


much  difficulty  when  she  came  to  America,  she  also 
found  and  brought  much  light. 

She  became  warmly  attached  to  the  land  of  her  adop- 
tion. With  far  too  keen  insight  and  too  much  historica,l 
sense  not  to  detect  the  errors  in  the  operation  of  our 
governmental  machinery,  she  yet  had  abundant  faith  in 
the  United  States,  and  felt  the  tremendous  breadth  of 
its  power  and  future  activity.  But  the  homeland  was 
even  more  dear.  Exiled  from  it  in  a  way  as  she  felt 
herself  to  be,  she  still  watched  it  from  a  distance,  loved 
it,  communed  with  it,  and  at  times  rebuked  it.  How 
eagerly  she  awaited  events  when  the  separation  from 
Sweden  took  place,  and  how  proud  and  thankful  she 
was  that  war  was  then  averted  and  that  after  centuries 
of  tutelage  the  spirited  little  country  was  at  last  setting 
forth  in  its  rightful  career  of  complete  self-government 
and  national  independence.  But  she  feared  for  it,  too, 
in  its  young  independence.  In  an  article  printed  in  a 
Norse  paper  she  expressed  some  of  this  fear  and  uttered 
a  warning.  Incidentally  she  showed  the  prophetic 
power  given  by  her  study  of  history  when  in  1911  she 
declared  imminent  almost  the  precise  diplomatic  rela- 
tions and  political  conditions  now  existing  in  the  great 
European  war  of  1914-16.  How  such  a  war  would 
affect  Norway  was  the  point  of  her  anxiety.  On  all 
such  matters  her  thought  was  wide-reaching,  penetrat- 
ing, and  accurate. 

Dr.  Wcrgcland  was  for  a  time  connected  with  both 
Bryn  Mawr  College  and  the  University  of  Chicago;  at 
which  institutions  the  present  writer  had  the  benefit  of 

[179] 


! 


Leaders  in  Norway 


a  close  friendship  with  her.  For  years  she  remained 
a  nonresident  Extension  lecturer  for  the  University  of 
Chicago.  But  the  largest  field  for  activity  was  opened 
to  her  in  the  University  of  Wyoming.  Perhaps  the  self- 
complacent  East  too  lightly  let  slip  away  from  it  what 
she  had  to  give.  At  any  rate,  to  the  young  open- 
minded  West,  where  possibly  the  need  was  greater,  she 
took  the  wealth  of  her  culture  and  there  made  practical 
for  hundreds  of  students  a  large  measure  of  the  riches 
of  her  experience  and  her  unusual  intellectual  equip- 
ment. 

She  found  in  Wyoming  a  mental  atmosphere  that 
suited  her.  Always  a  pioneer  and  a  radical  in  thought 
(however  gentle  in  manner),  always  a  keen  observer  of 
the  progress  of  women  in  recent  history,  it  was  not  for 
nothing  that  she  taught  in  a  university  maintained  by 
the  first  state  in  the  union  to  grant  women  suffrage ;  not 
for  nothing  that  she  met  and  made  friendships  there 
with  women  who  were  lawyers,  reformers,  members  of 
!;tate  committees,  and  voters  on  all  public  questions. 

She  became  known  as  a  speaker,  too,  and  a  public 
lecturer — she,  the  shy  one,  who  when  she  first  came  to 
the  country  possessed  little  conversational  English  and 
complained  of  feeling  like  a  dumb  animal,  "ein  stummes 
Thier."  The  students  were  never  so  well  pleased  as 
when  she  gave  them  a  talk  in  chapel  or  an  address  on 
some  memorial  day.  Women's  clubs  throughout  and 
beyond  the  state  asked  for  her  services.  And  when  on 
any  of  these  occasions  she  responded,  the  rich  vein  of 
humor  and  keen  wit  lying  among  her  weightier  quali- 

[180] 


Six  Years  Old 


Biographical  Note 


ties  sparkled  forth  for  the  enjoyment  of  her  listeners; 
and  the  purity  and  beauty  of  her  English  speech  with 
its  slightest  trace  of  accent  was  always  wonderingly 
remarked.  At  the  time  when  Ibsen's  fame  was  freshest 
and  greatest  in  this  country,  she  gave  a  course  of 
Extension  lectures  on  modern  drama  that  attracted 
wide  attention.  All  this  she  did,  with  weakening  health 
and  in  the  brief  intervals  of  heavy  teaching,  winter  and 
summer. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  of  these  last  years  when  she 
had  won  universal  respect  and  the  loving  admiration 
of  numberless  students ;  when  the  weight  of  melancholy 
which  darkened  her  youth  and  was  indeed  a  family 
inheritance,  was  lightened  more  than  it  had  ever  been; 
and  when  she  had  gained  and  continued  to  gain  such 
success  as  she  should  have  had  long  before.  Especially 
pleasant  is  it  to  think  of  the  close  sustaining  friendship 
she  had  with  one  in  particular  of  her  colleagues,  Grace 
Raymond  Hebard,  herself  a  writer  on  history  and 
government,  a  large  contributor  to  the  intellectual  life 
of  the  state,  and  in  every  way  a  notable  woman.  In 
this  friend  she  found  complete  sympathy  and  a  spon- 
taneous never  failing  affection.  To  her  she  once  wrote 
in  English  this  tribute: 

A  Song  of  Thy  Hand 

May  I  sing  thee,  dear,  a  song  of  thy  hand.'' 
No  lovelier  sight  shall  heaven  e'er  send. 
I  sec  thee  now  as  I  saw  thee  then. 
All  rapt  in  attention  forward  bend 

[181] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


While  the  music  rattled  and  muttered  in  storm. 
But  my  heart  sang  a  song  of  a  different  form. 
My  eye  swept  thee  up  in  a  motion  most  fleet 
And  kissed  thy  sweet  self  from  hea.d  to  feet. 
Ah,  never  was  love  more  tenderly  near 
To  whisper  its  secret  to  soul  and  ear. 
But  thou  spoke  too,  and  the  speaker  so  meek 
Was  the  gentle  hand  against  thy  cheek; 
The  supple,  the  endlessly  active  hand, 
Ever  patient  to  answer  each  eager  demand. 
It  has  done  so  much  and  loved  so  much. 
Has  lifted  great  loads,  smoothed  paths  with  a  touch. 
As  a  blossom  it  lay  against  thy  hair, 
A  white  dove's  wing,  most  peaceful  and  fair. 
Though  radiant  with  life,  v/ith  thought  and  firm  will, 
It  slept  on  thy  cheek  then,  dreambound  and  still. 
Of  velvet  it  seemed,  yet  it  is  as  of  steel, 
Yea!  gifted  with  power  to  guide  the  state's  weal. 
'Twas  an  emblem  of  life,  of  life's  far-reaching  aim. 
Life's  pulsebeat  of  love,  life's  force  above  name. 
If  weary  and  laborworn,  telling  of  care, 
Yet  'tis  great  beyond  words.     Oh,  my  heart !  Rest  it 

there ! 
The  two  friends  gradually  acquired  a  home  together, 
dear  to  both  of  them,  but  to  Dr.  Wergeland,  after  many 
years  of  stormtossed  homelessness,  some  of  them  almost 
unbelievably  hard,  that  home  was  precious  beyond 
expression.  In  a  Norse  poem  called  My  Home  she 
describes  it,  with  such  gladness  and  such  unconscious 
self-revelation    that    some    of   her    lines    are    embodied 

[182] 


Biographical  A^otc 


Iicrt- — not  inrlccd  like  tlic  original  in  verso,  but  at  least 
in  rhjtlnn. 

My  Home 

Farewell,  oh  world !  Now  I  place  my  key  in  the  lock, 
When  I  shut  my  door  I  shut  3^ou  outside. 
Here  I  withdraw  when  my  day's  work  ends 
And  my  mind  is  free  for  the  life  in  myself. 
For  the  depths  within,  for  the  quiet  hour 
And  the  silent  voice  that  gives  ansv.cr  to  questions. 

How  the  teakettle  sings!     Its  aroma  how  fresh, 
Its  social  warmth  giving  comfort  and  peace 
To  the  wornout  limbs  and  the  labored  breath. 

Nor  am  I  alone  in  my  well-loved  home. 
When  I  enter  the  door  one  greets  me  glad. 
Long  as  we  live,  we  shall  not  forget 
Life's  hills  arc  high  and  better  tlian  one  pull  two. 

Many  things  here  I  love,  my  watch 
With  its  heartening  tick,  its  admonition  to  work; 
A  zither  I  play,  so  difficult,  delicate; 
ISIy  pictures  too,  my  clioicc  of  things  seen  and  loved. 
Besides,  I  dream  of  what  I  would  do. 
Had  my  hoy)e  come  true,  had  I  not  been  retarded.  — 

Out  here  the  lines  are  fine,  the  colors  are  golden. 

And  I  long  to  bring  forth  the  intimate  tender  picture 
Hid  away  in  my  soul  unlimncd. 

And  yet  I  am  happy,  liow  liappy !  within  these  four 

walls 
That  arc  mine,  mv  own. 

[183] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


When  distant,  always  before  mo  lived  books, 
And  chair,  and  the  warm  red  glow  of  the  lamp. 
Out  on  the  ocean,  in  London,  in  Norway — wherever — 
I  longed  with  a  heartsick  wish  for  the  little  red  lamp. 
For  it  was  peace. 

And  now  when  I  sit  here  and  read 
From  the  v/ritings  of  those  I  most  love. 
The  old  Greeks,  and  Vigny,  and  Shelley, 
My  beloved  American  singers. 
My    home    is    a    meeting-place     for     countless    great 

thoughts, 
Happy  and  tender  and  sad,  pictures  of  dreams, 
Dwelling  here  in  wonderful  spirit  and  strength. 
And  they  hearten  me  too — strengthen  to  venture  more 
struggles 

Out  there  in  the  world. 

With  this  home  and  this  companion  and  the  friend- 
liest regard  of  the  whole  community,  her  last  years 
had  more  sunshine  and  happiness  than  she  had  ever 
known.  That  she  responded  to  it  as  a  bird  to  the 
warmth  of  spring,  is  proved  by  the  Norse  poems  that 
she  wrote  in  these  years ;  a  few  filled  with  sadness,  but 
most  of  them  outbursts  of  the  happy  singing  heart 
within  pouring  forth  its  love  for  trees  and  flowers, 
the  sunshine,  the  mountains,  and  above  all  for  her 
beloved   Norway. 

But  she  grew  physically  weaker  and  mortally  weary. 
She  had  always  worked  tremendously,  and  now  for 
years  she  had  greatly  exceeded  her  strength;  finding, 
too,  the  extremes  of  the  climate  and  the  altitude  very 

[184] 


Bioyrdpli'udl  Note 


taxing  to  her  weakened  heart.  At  last  in  the  winter 
of  191^  an  unexpected  ilhiess  overtook  her  and  carried 
her  to  tlie  bed  from  which  she  never  rose. 

Afterward,  beneath  lier  pillow,  was  found  in  Norse 
a  fantastic  grim  vision  of  what  she  was  experiencing. 
The  old  mood  of  melancholy  possessed  her  in  that  mid- 
night, calling  up  strange  dark  images,  and  enticed  her 
perforce  to  travel  v.ith  it  through  the  Shadowy  Vale. 
But  we  in  reading  it  should  be  unjust  if  we  failed  to 
remember  that  she  was  expressing — quite  for  herself — 
a  mood,  not  a  dominant  sentiment,  still  less  a  rooted 
conviction. 

CHARON  FORGETFUL? 

This  is  the  time  when  Charon  comes, 
after  midnight,  when  night  is  at  its  deepest. 

My  nurse  sleeps  calmly 

Let  her  sleep.     She  will  not  hear  me 

when  I  step  from  my  bed 

and  climb  up  into  the  window. 

Outside  the  wind  sighs 

As  I  put  one  foot  out,  an  arm  seems  to  take  me 

and  place  me  carefully  down 

on  the  bank  of  a  great  black  stream. 

For  the  whole  street  is  become  a  sloAV-running  river. 

On  the  shore  are  benches  where  people   sit   to   wait — 

in  the  dark— for  a  boat  that  is  to  come. 

There  are  not  so  few  on  my  bench. 
All  of  them  are  fully  dressed. 
One  man  carries  a  walking  stick. 

[185] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


A  woman  is  wearing  a  curly  ostrich  feather. 
I  alone  have  nothing  but  a  thin  night  slip. 

They  sit  erect  and  stiff.     I  cannot  see  their  faces- 
perhaps  despair  is  written  there,  or  indifference, 
or  something  that  leads  them  to  ask  for  death. 
It  may  be  they  are  dead  already 

I  am  the  only  one  who  sits  there 
crouched  together,  with  tlie  damps  of  night 
like  a  cold  shroud  lying  on  me. 


And  the  water  yonder  moves  slowly 

This  is  the  seventh  or  eighth  time 
I  have  sat  out  here  and  Charon  does  not  come. 
What  do  I  ask  of  him?     Rest!     Rest! 
I  am  so  tired 

When  the  others  get  into  the  boat 
I  will  try  to  slip  in  with  them  and  go  down  the  Styx, 
and  then  hurry  away  to  the  land  of  endless  sleep. 
There  I  will  roll  myself  together 
like  a  poor  outworn  cat 

in  some  hole  or  crevice  where  no  one  comes, 
and  at  last,  at  last,  find  peace 
from  this  throbbing,  shaking  heart, 
this  weariness,  always  driving,  never  ending. 

But the  copper !     the  little  coin 

I  always  lack  when  I  need  it. 

Whether  it   falls   out    from   between   my   teeth   or   my 
hands, 

[186] 


B'wgrapliicdl  Note 


or  wliether  my  niglitdress  is  not  wtt  enough 
to  hold  it  fast,  I  do  not  know 


And  Charon  is  an  old  man. 

Him  we  cannot  deceive. 

He  is  a  man  of  the  world  too. 

Every   time  he   takes   the   shadows, 

he  sees  that  all  happens  as  is  fitting. 

He  is  also  an  exacting  man. 

Nothing  for  no+hing     ....      even  in  the  land  of 

shadows. 
Alas,  alas !     money  never  clung  to  me. 

What  do  people  live  for.^* 
Gold    .      .      fame      .      .      power      .      .      none    of    these 

became  mine. 
Toil  was  for  me,  as  for  many  others. 
I  was  a  common  soldier. 
I  stood  in  the  trenches  and  ranks 
like  my  brothers  and  sisters. 
The  commandant  received  v>ords  of  praise 
and  fine  ribbons  and  medals ; 
but  we      .      .      .      received   the   usual   nothing 

To  me  at  bottom  it  matters  not. 

But  now  I  wish  to  sleep  in  peace, 
not  be  urged  and  driven  out  again 
when  my  limbs  tremble  and  I  cannot  stand  up 
even  to  see  if  the  little  boat  is  finally  coming. 

Is  it  a  tiny  star  that  glows  over  there, 

or  is  it  a  lantern.''      .... 

[187] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


Ah  no !     it  is  the  light  of  dawn !     The  hour 
is  past.      The  rigid  shadows  have  vanished. 
I  am  alone.     The  stream  too  has  shrunk  away. 
Charon  has  forgotten  me  this  night. 

My  wet  dress  has  grown  dry. 
I  seem  to  feel  the  warmth  of  life's  fingers  upon  my  heart. 

Out  in  the  street  I  can  do  nothing 

The  same  arm  that  lifted  me  out 
again  lifts  me  in. 

Now  I  am  in  bed,  on  the  same  pillow, 
with  the  same  covering  over  me, 
exactly  as  before 

February  twentieth. 

And  yet,  it  may  happen 
that  I  shall  sail  away  from  them 
some  other  night,  Avhcn  the  stream  lures, 
and  Charon  really  comes  alongside  the  shore. 

March  -fourth. 
[DISCESSIT— jl/r/rc/?   sixth.'] 


[188] 


APPENDIX  I 

COLLETT  ON  IBSEN'S  GHOSTS 

Ibsen's  drama  is  itself  a  ghost,  not  one  of 
those  well-known  ghosts  which  appear  in  our  ghost 
stories  and  about  which  my  old  father  used  to  say, 
"If  these  spirits  were  only  not  so  spiritless,  so  tire- 
some !"  For  Ibsen's  ghost  we  find  a  parallel  perhaps 
best  in  Shakespeare's  repertoire  of  spirits,  those  appa- 
ritions of  terror  which  appear  as  retribution,  as  fate, 
and  especially  in  his  Hamlet,  in  the  King  apparition 
which  seeks  a  soul  strong  enough  to  bear  its  terrible 
secret.  It  has  hitherto  sought  in  vain.  All  stare  at  it, 
make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  let  it  pass  silently  by. 
The  multitude  who  h.ear  of  it  say  it  is  nonsense,  pure 
imagination.  But  Hamlet  comes,  Hamlet,  the  doubter, 
the  inquirer— in  a  word,  the  spirit  of  the  age.  He 
wishes  to  hear.  He  listens  while  his  heart  chills  in  his 
bosom,  and  tlie  more  he  listens  the  more  does  fear 
give  place  to  other  feelings.  He  not  only  wishes  to 
knov/  the  secret  confided  to  him  but  he  will  divulge  it; 
and  he  not  only  will  divulge  it  but  he  will  avenge  it. 

Our  poet,  like  Hamlet,  the  accuser,  the  avenger, 
strikes  a  direct  blow  at  hypocrisy  and  veneer,  and  tears 
away  that  M-orm-eaten  garment  of  apathy  and  habit 
with  which  society  has  so  long  covered  itself.  He  is 
the  first  one  who  hns  hnd  the  courage  to  cry  out  to 
this  society  "There !  look  at  what  you  have  chosen  and 
crowned  and  daily  bent  your  knee  to — of  all  your  old 
tolerant,     disregarded,     secreted,     patronized,     sinful 

[ISO] 


Leaders  in  Norwaij 


addictions  the  very  worst — sec  now  how  beautiful  it 
is  !"^ — And  the  hypocrisy  of  society  shouts  against  the 
disturber  and  throws  its  stones. 

(Translated  from  Against  The  Tide.) 


V 


[190] 


lijoniNon 


APPENDIX  II 
NOTE  ON  BJORNSON 

Translated  and  Arranged 

About  1857  two  new  tendencies  began  to  appear  in 
Norse  literature  and  developed  into  the  dominant 
movements  of  the  succeeding  years.  The  influence  of 
folklore,  M^hich  had  been  most  active  during  the  preced- 
ing decade,  now  yielded  to  the  influence  of  the  old  saga 
literature  and  to  the  beginnings  of  a  realistic  develop- 
ment. Ibsen  wrote  his  historical  dramas  based  on  the 
old  sagas,  Bjornson  appeared  with  his  peasant  stories 
and  his  historical  dramas  simultaneously.  Both  men's 
works  were  written  in  the  modernized  saga  style.  There 
has  been  much  speculation  as  to  who  really  introduced 
this  saga  style.  But  it  may  be  confidently  asserted 
that  Bjornson  was  the  first  to  introduce  it  in  his  stories 
and  novels  (Synndve  Solhallicn),  and  Ibsen  in  The 
Warriors  established  it  on  the  stage. 

The  drift  toward  realism,  toward  a  study  of  the 
problems  of  life,  appeared  in  Ibsen's  dramatic  works, 
in  Bjornson's  participation  m  political  life,  and  in 
Camilla  Collett's  plea  for  the  cause  of  woman.  Bjornson 
threw  himself  with  all  his  energy  into  the  political 
turmoil ;  he  fought  for  his  ideas  not  only  as  a  poet  but 
as  a  journalist  and  a  patriot.  Camilla  Collett  sacri- 
ficed her  purely  literary  career  and.  devoted  all  her 
efforts  to  advocating  her  social  ideas  through  treatises 
and  newspaper  articles.     Ibsen  alone  stayed  away  from 

[191] 


Leaders  in  Norway 


journalism  and  political  agitation,  but  he  did  not  turn 
awaj  from  his  contemporaries ;  on  the  contrary,  he 
studied  conditions  with  zeal  and  energy  and  finally 
began  to  picture  them. 

Bjornson  is  said  to  be  the  most  vigorous  and  the 
most  admired  poetical  genius  of  the  later  nineteenth 
century.  He  was  the  youngest  of  the  group  of  writers 
and  the  most  irresistible.  Wherever  he  went,  there  was 
life,  light  and  bustle.  All  gathered  around  him,  he 
Avas  born  to  be  a  centre  and  he  immediately  became  so. 
He  did  not  need  to  fight  his  way  to  his  leadership ;  he 
assumed  it  at  once,  as  if  it  were  so  ordained.  Previous 
Avriters  had  described  nature  and  had  presented  the 
folklore.  To  picture  individuals  v/ho  belonged  to  the 
people  and  lived  in  the  mountain  regions — that  was  the 
task  Bjornson  undertook.  His  predecessors  had  led 
their  readers  into  woods  and  fields  and  had  given  them 
some  glimpses  of  the  life  of  the  people.  But  this  poet 
opened  the  door  to  the  peasant's  hut,  and  even  more  to 
his  heart.  Though  in  other  kinds  of  literature  Bjorn- 
son created  original  and  remarkable  works,  his  most 
characteristic  productions  are  his  peasant  novels. 
Synnove  Solbakken  vv'as  followed  in  time  by  Arne,  A 
Happy  Boy,  The  Fisher  Maiden  and  others.  In 
these  stories  he  depicts  simple  everyday  life.  He  has  a 
vronderful  aptness  in  describing  character,  not  only 
that  of  the  principal  personages,  but  in  a  few  brief 
words  he  outlines  also  the  minor  figures  so  distinctly 
that  we  seem  to  see  them  living  before  us.  His  style 
is  terse  like  that  of  the  old  sagas.     He  is  as  sparing  of 

•   [192] 


Appendix  II 


words  as  are  his  heroes.     A  special  charm  is  given  by 
the  lyrics  woven  into  his  stories. 

Bjornson  began  early  to  wa-ite  for  the  stage.  Even 
older  than  Synnove  Solbokken  is  his  first  drama, 
Between  the  Battles.  In  extent  his  dramatic  writings 
far  exceeded  what  he  otherwise  Avrote,  but  he  never 
mastered  the  drama  to  the  same  degree  as  the  peasant 
novel.  His  poems  are  a  delightful  collection  of  lyrics 
such  as  is  rarely  offered  to  present-day  readers.  Fore- 
most among  them  is  the  wonderful  national  hymn,  "Yes, 
we  love  with  fond  devotion." 


[193] 


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